


There just is no damsel in distress

by RedRaidingHood



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: M/M, fairy tale AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1821613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRaidingHood/pseuds/RedRaidingHood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Jason Grace has heard of a fair maiden, imprisoned in a tower by an evil witch. Being a good prince, he sets off to rescue her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I've got a dream

**Author's Note:**

> I got a request from the sweet ice-maiden39 on tumblr to write something mythological/fairy tale-ish (just no Greek/Roman myths), so I had my fun writing this little piece of work.  
> Enjoy~
> 
> Edit: Now with wonderful fanart by ElfGrove: http://elfgrove.tumblr.com/post/117402343253

The tower was just as high and broad as Jason had heard. It was true, there was no door, no stairs, just a wide window at the very top right under its roof; but the beautiful girl the evil witch had imprisoned there was nowhere to be seen. In fact, Jason had been told the girl would be alone in the tower, were the evil witch not to visit her. Never had Jason heard from a lanky boy with dark hair and a mischievous grin; still there he was, sitting on the windowsill, peeling an apple. He watched as Jason dismounted his horse hesitantly.

“Hey,” Jason called up.

“Hey.” The boy shoved a slice in his mouth, still grinning. He sat in that tower as if he hadn’t heard the stories everyone at the palace had.

“I’m looking for a beautiful girl with long hair that lives in this tower?”

The boy kept watching him a few seconds, the grin fading from his face. Eventually he gulped down another piece of his apple and nodded. “Yeah, no. You’re too late.”

“I... What!” Jason exclaimed. This could not be! The travellers had just brought these news to his father’s court and Jason had gladly taken the chance to leave the cold king and his overbearing wife. Meeting a nice girl in the process would have been pretty cool too, but he hadn’t actually intended to take her as his bride. He’d rather planned on saving her to built a reputation and go on adventures and quests, and rescue fair maidens and damsels in distress – and now the first step of his plan had already been thwarted. He didn’t want to go back to the palace…

“You’re too late,” the boy up in the tower repeated. “Percy’s taken Annabeth two weeks ago. Not that they haven’t been snogging for months already.” He waved the knife he’d used to cut his apple about and rolled his eyes dramatically.

Jason deflated. So there was no maiden in the tower anymore. There was no damsel in need for a prince to save her. He’d travelled three days to come here, he was short on food and his horse could need a good long break. And he desperately needed to calm down and clear his thoughts. What should he do? He couldn’t come home like this. The men would laugh at him, the women gossip behind his back and his father… his father would be Disappointed. With a capital ‘D’.

“Don’t cry.”

Jason looked up to meet a pair of dark eyes, the boy leaning down dangerously far. “I’m not crying,” he spat back.

“Looks like you’re gonna cry to me.”

“Yeah? Come down and get a closer look than!” Jason raised a fist, swinging it threateningly. That normally worked – he either got into a good fight, or the other left him alone, that is. This time however he got a smile and a name.

“Nico.”

“What?”

“My name, Prince Charming.” The boy – Nico – put the knife in his belt, turned on the sill and actually started the descend down. Without ropes or a ladder, not even a braid of hair; just practised motions.

Nico jumped the last few meters and landed gracefully on the grass. Jason’s horse whinnied and trotted off a bit.

“You can leave the tower?” The prince asked flabbergasted. The girl from the stories wasn’t able to leave, and the evil witch could only come and go by means of using the girl's hair as a rope. Nico gave him an incredulous look.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I? - Anyway,” Nico said but didn’t continue speaking, instead, he placed himself right in front of Jason, his hands on his hips, craning his neck a little to look Jason in the eye.

The prince sputtered and recoiled, his face flushing. “What are you-”

“You told me to take a look.” Nico told him matter-of-factly, but his face betrayed another feeling, interest, curiosity, maybe even a little bit of concern.

Jason sighed. He was wasting his time, the girl was gone and this boy, no matter how cute he was, wouldn’t change that fact. But Nico _was_ cute. Kind of.

He eyed his new acquaintance; Nico was thin, but muscled, like a deer, his limbs long and strong, and his eyes… they didn’t look human. They were dark, almost black, but Jason liked them. They were fascinating. “I take it you don’t have something to drink with you?” he asked eventually and Nico gave him the same mischievous grin he’d worn when Jason arrived.

Winking at Jason, he turned back to the tower, the wind sweeping through his shaggy hair, pulling Jason’s attention to two little feathers and pearls braided in his dark strands. Like his eyes, they too seemed to remind Jason of another story he’d heard at court. But they suited Nico.

The boy put his hand on the wall, gently stroking and mumbling something under his breath. And just like that, the stones seemed to weep. The tower was bleeding a clear liquid.

Jason’s eyes bulged and he took a step back. This was magic. This had to be magic and magic was dangerous, forbidden. And finally, with a racing heart in his throat, Jason remembered. “You’re her son! You’re the witch’s son!” Everybody had heard that tale, the tale of a being, roaming the woods, the animals shunning the creature; a creature the evil witch had created, a boy, a bringer of death.

Jason drew his sword, pointing its blade to Nico’s neck, but when the boy turned, he put the sword down. Nico did look dangerous, he did look inhuman, but the emotion on his face was human. So clearly human it hurt.

“Here’s your water, Jason. Do you want it or not?” He said, his voice distant, no longer teasing. The boy shook his head watching the horse that was still fighting its animal instinct, the urge to flee. “You don’t trust me.” Dark eyes found Jason’s again. “But you don’t have any reason not to trust me either.”

He was right. Jason blinked. Was he bewitched? Did Nico do something to him? No. It just felt as if someone had opened his eyes, had given him the sight he was already trying his hardest to see. Jason was no longer blind.

All his life, Jason had listened to stories, had known of right and wrong. There were women, who needed rescue and man who came and saved them. They were expected to marry, marry a stranger they’d just met. And there were sorcerers and witches and all of them were evil, clearly evil, just because they had magic. Jason hadn’t know this Annabeth who had been imprisoned in the tower, but he had intended to save her, to help her, not even questioning why that had happened to her. And here was Nico, a boy he didn’t know either and who had tried to help him, to be nice – and Jason nearly attacked him because of the stories he’d heard. Because all magic was evil.

Jason stepped forward, sheathing his sword. He stopped at the wall, cupping his hand to the stones and catching the liquid in his palm. He drank without hesitation.

An incredulous laugh made him wipe his mouth and turn back to the witch’s son. Jason saw the look on his face with satisfaction. Nico looked glad, happy, so incredibly happy. He lunged forward and grabbed Jason’s collar, their faces only inches apart. Nico’s breath tingled his lips, a warm flush spreading over Jason’s cheeks. “You drank that?” Nico laughed again, shaking the prince a little. “You actually drank that!” He exclaimed, smiling but then he let go and stepped back.

Jason felt the cold invade his body where Nico had been touching him at once, and he already missed his breath on his lips. He’d actually forgotten to pay attention to the taste of the liquid, but he wasn’t thirsty anymore. Probably magic, he concluded. A good kind of magic.

“Thanks, I guess,” he laughed too, watching the son of the witch jump a little. All of a sudden, Nico eyed him warily.

“Why did you do it?” He demanded, and Jason felt a sharp pain in his chest. He’d just tried to show Nico his trust, just tried to be nice, for gods sake. Damn, this kid was suspicious!

But cute. Still cute.

Sighing, he put a hand on his forehead and closed his eyes. Nico had probably heard the same stories he had; knew his own role, the role of the bad guy, the evil child of the witch. But Jason had chosen to stop being colour-blind, to stop seeing everything as black-and-white like in a fairy tale.

“Because, like you just said, I have no reason not to trust you.” He explained, and the look on Nico’s face was even more incredulous than it had been before. Still, he stepped forward, getting closer again.

“You’re a strange man, Jason Grace,” he muttered, his eyes never leaving Jason’s.

The prince grinned. “Give me a chance, and I might be able to show you just how strange.” It was an odd idea, funny even, but Jason liked it. He had never thought about it earlier, but he had come here to get away from all those exceptions at court, how a prince had to be and act – and now, here with Nico, he had realized even more, learned that he too was full of exceptions, of prejudices, and maybe, just maybe it was worth it. Maybe he was right and Nico could prove it, could prove to him that not all magic was bad. And in return, he could show Nico the same.

“I’m the witch’s son.”

“Yes.”

“And you - Prince Charming, one of the good guys - you want me to give you a chance?”

“Yes.”

Nico shook his head. “What’s on your mind, Jason?”

“Right now?” Nico nodded, one hand propped on his hip, observing Jason like something fascinating. “How you know my name,” Jason answered and Nico’s mouth fell open.

He looked ridiculous standing there like that. The evil being, the son of the evil witch, dark-eyed and dangerous, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Jason sat down in the grass with a smug look on his face. “So, how do you know my name? Is it magic? Or did you just listen to some travellers or something? What are you doing here anyway – and what’s your favourite food? I like chocolate-cake.”

Nico blinked and closed his mouth, his teeth audibly clicking, but he settled down next to Jason anyway. “It’s not really magic. A ghost told me.”

“That’s cool.”

Nico gave him a skeptical look. “You’re not gonna question the ghost-part?”

“Nope.” Jason smiled. He was pretty sure Nico wasn’t lying, but at the same time, Nico didn’t sound like ghosts were anything he needed to be afraid of. So why should Jason? “You’re staying at this tower, or what?”

Leaning his shoulder against the now-dry stones, Nico gave him an amused grin. “Yup. It’s better than Persephone’s place. And no one comes here – because _everyone_ has heard the story of Prince Perseus saving poor Annabeth already.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t” Jason blushed a little and pulled on his ear.

“And I’m glad for that.” Nico looked serious. Not teasing, not unbelieving, just serious. There was something, just a little spark in Jason’s heart that made him lean on the tower too, right next to Nico, their shoulders touching.

“Wanna talk about this Annabeth?”

He shook his head, dark eyes scanning the horizon, the orange glow on his face heralding dusk. “Not really. What about you? What are you gonna do now that there is no one in this tower a prince could woo?”

“There isn’t?”

Nico turned his head back sharply, their eyes locking, neither speaking for a moment and Jason cursed himself internally. Why had he said that? Sure, it had felt right, shit, somehow still felt right, but Nico didn’t fully trust him yet - they had just met!

The witch’s son blushed bright red, fumbling with the braids in his hair nervously, but his shoulder was still touching Jason’s. “I think you should go. It’s getting dark soon.”

“Can I come again?”

Nico looked at him, his brows furrowed, his mouth open just a little and his face still noticeably flushed. Jason had to resist the urge to kiss him right then and there. There was no answer, no question, just a small nod, and Jason leaned down, his hand on Nico’s neck, pulling him closer. Just a small, chaste peck, before he touched his forehead to Nico’s, breathing a promise against his lips. “I’ll be back for you.”


	2. The Root of all Evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prince always brings his princess a token of his love, so Nico is justified in wanting one too, isn't he? Although he knows it's not possible...

Over the years, Nico had learned not to expect anything nice from others, not even if some kind of promise or reward was included. If all people expected from you was bad things, the only thing you had to expect was either learning how to hide well pretty soon, or die.  
Still, Jason was back and against all his instincts, Nico had climbed down from the safety of his tower again, to find himself neither in need to hide, nor dead. In fact, he was pretty sure he was safe down here with Jason too; which was strange in itself. The prince was actually quite _charming_ – and Nico knew about charms. It was frustrating, really.

“So, what's it with you and apples?” Jason asked, biting a big chunk out of the fruit in his hand.

“I just happen to like them,” the witch's son answered off-handedly.

The prince laughed. He had a great laugh, it was contagious. “Seriously, Nico, what's the deal? There's not one apple tree around here, but you seem to have tons of them!”

Smiling, Nico cut himself a slice and shook his head. “Magic,” he suggested. Actually it wasn't, Jason just didn't know the area as well as he did; there actually were quite a few apple trees around.

The sun had shone on the stones of his tower all day, and Nico wasn't quite sure whether it was the wall at his back or Jason's presence, that warmed his whole body from the inside out.

“No way,” Jason exclaimed, holding the remains of his fruit against the sky, examining it like he was actually searching for visible traces of magic. “Wouldn't it glow or something?”

“Magic doesn't glow,” Nico scoffed. He licked the juice off his knife and put it on the ground.

They'd sat at the foot of Nico's tower for a while now, just talking and eating apples, but already, Nico dreaded the first orange rays of the setting sun, the signal for Jason to leave. It wasn't really that he wanted the prince to stay, he wanted him to _come back_ – and never had Nico met a person he could trust to come back to him, no matter what. Jason had returned this time, just this once, but how could Nico be sure the prince wouldn't tire of him, wouldn't want to go home, to his kingdom?

Without thinking, Nico let his head fall on Jason's shoulder. This did feel nice, but whatever he had with the prince was still fleeting; a feeling he couldn't allow, because it couldn't be.

“Last time,” he started, watching the sun as if the planet would drop behind the horizon the moment he took his eyes off. “Did you mean what you said?”

Jason grinned, rejoicing in the feeling of the boy leaning on him. “Every word.”

Nico's eyes snapped wide open and his heart skipped a beat. Jason really sounded like he meant that, but it just couldn't be. This wasn't how Nico's world worked. He turned around, sitting on his knees to face the prince. “Prove it.”

It was fair, wasn't it? The prince would haven proven Annabeth his affection by rescuing her, so Nico was perfectly justified in wanting a token too, wasn't he? At least Jason seemed to think so; he leaned forward, nodding eagerly. “Alright, what can I do for you?”

 

“To think you'd actually do it....” Nico ducked behind a wooden crate, splinters from the destroyed house missing his head only by an inch.

“You said you wanted one!” Jason screamed over the noise, sidestepping a wooden beam the Golem threw at him, then closed in on the raging battle with his sword drawn again.

The witch's son stayed put behind his relatively safe shield and rolled his eyes. “I told you to get the heart of a Golem, birdbrain! If I'd say I wanted the breath of a fish, would you get that too?” He was sure the answer would've been 'Yes', had the other not been busy fighting a ten feet clay-man alongside the other knights. He hadn't been serious of course; everyone knew Golems had no heart. But then again, everyone and their evil stepmother had known Nico's tower no longer hosted a damsel in distress – everyone but Jason.

With his wooden shield at his back, Nico was hidden enough to dare use a little magic – the villagers really didn't have to know who he was; they had been affected enough with a prince like Jason coming to save them from the big bad clay-man.

He pulled out his knife, cursing his own stupid conscience for making him follow the man. With a small cut to his index finger he drew blood and let a drop mingle with the dirt on the ground. He used the point of his knife to stir the mix until it hardened and formed a tiny, solid pill.

The Golem was big and strong – a lot stronger than a human anyway – and it couldn't register any pain. It looked good though, very human, a clay-caked human, but still... whoever had made the monster had known what they were doing.

Nico ventured a quick peek over his shoulder. Almost instantly, he cringed in sympathy seeing one of the Golem's hits getting through Jason's defence, throwing the prince back against a wall. The witch's son took his chance, dashed out of his shelter, the pill clutched in one hand, his knife in the other. The small blade wouldn't do anything against the monster, but if he could just get close enough...

He didn't.

He didn't even make it four steps before a fist that felt like a ton of bricks slammed into his side and his world became a veil of dust and debris. It took a few moments until his body realized what just happened, but then the pain hit him. He cried out; his arm was definitely broken and his face was wet – from blood or tears he couldn't discern.

Somehow he registered the panicked screams, although his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. And then there was this voice that pulled his consciousness back to the surface. Jason.

The prince looked pretty bad, beaten up; some bloodstains already dried, some still wet. His sweat had drawn fine lines in the dirt that was covering his face. They looked like the roots of a tree, and Jason looked good even though he was covered in sweat and dust and blood. Did he just ask something? Nico tried to shake his head, but stinging pain cut through his skull. He squeezed his eyes shut and this time, he was sure the wetness on his face came from tears.

Jason pulled his glove off, running his knuckles gently over Nico's face, wiping the tears away. “Shh, it's alright.” His own voice betrayed his words though. Jason himself didn't sound alright; he knew he had underestimated his opponent.

Nico grit his teeth and tried to move his hands. His knife had fallen somewhere in the debris, but more than anything he needed the pill. He grabbed blindly, ignoring the pain and the tears that came with it. “Jason.” The prince had looked over to the fighting knights, but his face mirrored the futility of it all. He looked back to Nico, leaning closer, putting his gloved hand on Nico's hip. “Jason, listen.” It hurt his lungs but Nico kept going “I had a small pill.” His consciousness was fading again, his mind swimming. He barely registered Jason calling his name, before he lost track of the events around him.

 

Jason saw the witch's son crash into the ruins of a house, a cloud of dusk covering the scene. He picked himself up, only stopping to grab for his sword out of habit.

Nico looked horrible, lying there on the debris, the dusk slowly setting, and just for one moment, Jason's heart stopped; but then Nico moved, just a little, but it was enough for the prince to thank every god who was willing to listen. He fell to his knees next to the boy, slipping off a glove to wipe away the tears on his face. Nico cringed, and Jason swiftly retracted his hand. The prince blinked, trying to see through his own tears, while the whole world around them seemed to vanish.

He hadn't intended for this to happen. He had just wanted to make Nico happy, not to hurt him. It had seemed so simple too, when he'd told Jason about the heart of a Golem. Jason had fought monsters already, and getting the heart of one was surely nothing too hard – especially since it was meant as a token of his affection. Never had Jason expected the witch's son to follow him though...

He needed to end this fight quickly, before anything more could happen to Nico. What had he said? A pill? Probably magic. If there was a good way to stop this monster, Jason didn't know of it, but magic could solve every problem, couldn't it?

He looked around frantically, but all he got was a glimpse of the Golem out of the corner of his eye. The monster was close, too close. Jason hadn't the time to look for some magic aid, in just a few moments, the creature would be on them.

Jason pulled his glove back on and grabbed his sword determined. He stood up. A few minutes were all he probably needed. Nico would wake up soon enough, just a concussion, the prince told himself before turning to his opponent.

The Golem was bigger than him, stronger than him, and possible even faster than him – it really didn't look good for the prince. The big clay-fist came down, cutting the air audibly.  Jason didn't even try to block it, he rolled to the side, hoping the monster would go after a moving target, rather than an unconscious one. It stomped one foot into the ground, swinging around, it's arm describing a wide arc in a second attempt to hit Jason. He ducked, the blow swishing over his head, but the Golem's other fist came low, hitting Jason in the chest. Winded, he stumbled against a nearby wall. His armour had taken some force off the hit, but it still hurt; the metal bend inwards, a long crack splitting the it.

Shocked and panting, Jason was defenceless against the creature's grip, pulling him forward. He stumbled, fell to the ground, but the clay-hand on his shoulder stayed firm. His sword-arm felt dislocated already, the pain shooting through his skull, adding to the nausea the blow to his chest had caused. The Golem raised his body over its head. If it had any real features, it would have probably smiled in triumph.

Jason raised his good hand to its hand, clinging to it. Sweat ran down his face and each breath hurt. He tired to heave himself up, hoping to relieve his bad shoulder of some of his weight. He needed a weapon, a plan, some way out fast; he didn't know how long he could stay conscious with this level of pain.

The monster pulled him down forcefully, grinding his body into the dirt. Sharp stones and splinters cut his face, the debris scrapping his skin. Jason cried out. He panicked, grabbed around for something to hold on, to stop this torture and got hold of an edged object, raising it defensively the same time the Golem raised his body a second time.

It was Nico's knife.

The moment he touched its hilt, power surged from the blade, returning life into Jason's battered form. It must've been Nico's magic. Just the thought of the witch's son revitalized him. Determined not to give the monster any chance to react, Jason thrust the knife to it's face, jabbing and hacking away. Some clay chipped off, and with a small cry of victory, Jason realized the mouth of the monster was hollow. Jason kept striking it's head, emboldened through his small triumph and fear of what might happen, were he to stop just for a second.

Finally the knife broke through, sinking into the monster's mouth to it's hilt, hopefully destroying the parchment that had given the creature its life. The Golem finally froze.

Jason dangled from it's arm in the air, unable to reach anything but the clay-man itself, the sudden power leaving him as fast as it had come. He thrust the knife out, revealing the small piece of parchment it had cut, and started to work on the clay-fingers still clenching his shoulder.

His whole body hurt, hurt so much, he didn't even register the dull pain when he fell down, the clay broken off and releasing him. Breathing was hard and his head spun. This wasn't looking too good, and he had been in enough fights to know.

He closed his eyes just for one second – and opened them to a cold, soothing energy running through his body, replacing all the pain with something number, something his mind could bear.

He wasn't dead, he realized, and his sight focused on the figure looming over him. Black hair and pale features were the first things he noticed, his dulled brain working to connect them to a face, a familiar person. “Nico,” he croaked, his voice harsh from dust and his lungs hurting. He lay in Nico's lap, long fingers running through his hair. He had promised him the Golem's heart, yet he had only a pierced piece of parchment to show.

Tears fell on Jason's face that weren't his own, and when Nico touched their foreheads together, he could finally make out his words, listen, to what the boy had to say to his failure.

“You're alive. Oh gods, you're alive, you stupid, wonderful man.”

And when Nico kissed him, he was surprised he was forgiven so easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of want to try something here, so I'm a little anxious with this.  
> Anyway, thanks for reading!  
> Feel free to comment and/or criticize <3


	3. Kryptonite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermaths of the battle for a token, Jason is confronted with views quite different to his own, while Nico's past starts to catch up to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, so yes, I've promised another chapter quite a while ago and yes, this was on my laptop for quite a while and again yes, this was meant to be longer (thus never published until now). Anyway, I thought I might put this up and pick this story up again. I hope you'll still enjoy this chapter! ;D

The southern part of the village was in ruins. Some people were working on rebuilding their homes, some were busy packing up and loading their few remaining belongings on carts and mules. Another foreigner wasn't actually welcome thus. They watched the man warily, answering his questions only when they were paid a fine sum. Eventually one of the knights keeping watch over the chaos noticed and saw what the man wanted. And just by sheer luck the very same knight had been there when this catastrophe had happened, he could give quite good descriptions of the two strange men that had come to the village the very same day.

Octavian smiled when he recognized one of them; it was the boy the witchhunter was looking for. It was a stroke of luck, and it didn't even end there. When he looked around the site he noticed one of the kids playing in the ruins show their friends something strange. A pill, a small pill of dirt with tiny, blood-red veins.

 

The covers were soft and warm, and something smelled really good in the room. Jason blinked, and opened his eyes to a velvet baldachin not unlike the one over his own four-poster back home. He felt great, refreshed from however long he slept, his muscles should've been sore though, torn even; his bones broken and his skin scrapped and… He had been fighting a Golem. He had _survived_ fighting a Golem. Jason blinked again, this time out of confusion. His hands rose slowly, lifting the blanket off his chest, revealing bandaged and linen, but no blood. There should haven been blood and bruises and a lot of pain. There wasn't.

One of the beautifully decorated double doors opened and a small, chubby maid walked in with a steaming terrine. “Oh, deary me! The young knight's awake!” She flitted to his side, putting the terrine on the tray where another already stood, emanating the great smell Jason had noticed earlier. “Sir, can I do anything for you, before I inform the Lord?” She curtseyed like an afterthought and Jason almost laughed. He composed himself and sat back against the headrest. “You can start by telling me where I am,” he answered honestly. It was obvious this wasn't the village he had been in and he wasn't aware of any Lord living close to it either - though the latter could be due to his lacking interest in royalty.

“You're in Talsworth Keep, Sir. Residence of Marquess Gateau.”

“Talsworth Keep, huh?” Jason had been at the Keep just once before with his father when he was still a little kid and he only vaguely remembered the Marquess as a kind but bitter man; not the most handsome, a too-long chin, gangly, angular limbs and fish-lips. Really ugly fish-lips one couldn't help but notice. He'd really love to see Nico's reaction to them - Right, _Nico_.

Jason could still clearly see the witch's son before his mind's eye. He'd been lying in the dirt, in pain, blood running down his face; Jason's breath hitched.

“Nico – the boy that was with me, do you know where he is?” he asked as fast as his sore throat allowed. The maid gave him a sceptical look and took a few steps back. Her whole demeanour seemed to change with the mention of Nico's name.

“Do not worry about that creature, good Sir. That _thing_ is down in the dungeons where it can't do no harm.”

Jason threw the blanket off him, not even caring about the state of his clothes. “What? What happened, spit it out!”

“Maybe you shouldn't scream at the personnel? Please and thank you.” The door opened fully a second time, revealing a man with dark hair and a genuine smile that reached his eyes. He kicked the door close and walked over to the bed with a hand on his hip, like he was used to rest it on a sword. The man seemed to notice Jason's gaze; he winked and held out his hand. “Name's Perseus Jackson. My dad's the Marquess' overlord.”

Something inside Jason stirred at the mention of this name, but his mind was occupied with thoughts more urgent. He forced himself to keep calm and grit his teeth, reaching out to shake Perseus' hand. “Jason Grace, Prince of Iulia.”

Perseus blinked. Jason had expected more of an reaction to stating his name than the other person shaking his head and blinking, but Perseus didn't seem likely to let go of his hand or bow. His grip was firm, but something felt strange, momentarily distracting Jason from his anger.

When he finally let go, he noticed the little finger on Perseus' swordhand missing, the skin still a little raw, but healing well. “Small price to pay,” the man said, obviously following Jason's gaze. “For the best girl in the world. You can call me Percy, by the way. My cousin shouldn't call me 'Perseus' or something like that.”

Jason studied Percy wide-eyed “Cousin?”

“Yeah, same grandfather I think. That old dude, you know?”

For all he knew, it could certainly be true; Jason had heard of one of his cousins being overseas on the crusades, but Percy wasn't any older than he was. “So, hey, _Percy_ , what's that with Nico being in the dungeons?”

His cousin shrugged nonchalantly. “Dunno, really. I've only come here after the whole fun was over. I'm just to see to the law being enforced and the creature burned tomorrow.”

Jason's heart stopped. They were referring to Nico a _the creature_ , they were planning to _burn_ him? He sat down heavily on the bed. But Nico hadn't done anything, no, Nico had come after him, had come because Jason was eager to defeat the Golem and Nico had come to... so see him safe, right?

“Everyone's pretty happy that murder spree is finally come to an end,” Percy went on. “That thing had its Golem abduct girls for the past three years! Can you imagine that? Well, obviously you can, since you're the hero, right?” Percy grinned, putting a hand on Jason shoulder. “Congrats.”

This wasn't possible. Nothing of this was possible. Nico hadn't done anything, Nico hadn't ordered that Golem, hadn't abducted girls, he wasn't _bad_ , he was just... _magic_.

Jason put a hand over his heart and took a deep breath; it wouldn't do any good were he to panic now. “What's the prove?”

“Excuse me? That thing had used magic on you! It tried to kill you after you thwarted it's plans by destroying the minion” Percy sputtered. “Look,” he went on. “I get it, I would be a little out of it too, if I were you. Don't worry about it. Just don't talk like that, alright? How about you just get dressed and I'll introduce you to the Marquess?”

Jason shook his head. Maybe it was shock, maybe he really wasn't seeing things straight right now, but Nico... Nico wasn't _evil_ , was he? Had he really tried to kill him when he fell unconscious? He _had_ been there, he had _kissed_ him, right?

Percy smiled at his cousin empathetically. Magic could do bad things to your psyche, that was a well-known fact. He had fought enough sorcerers in the crusades to know just how bad things could get and Jason here really didn't look like he understood how lucky he'd been this time. With a few swift motions he opened the terrine, filling a small bowl with soup and sat down beside his cousin on the bed.

Jason held his aching head, but accepted the the soup, glad to get his mind occupied with something else while Percy watched him. His cousin helped him get some clothes and eventually Jason was calm enough to meet his generous host, Marquess Gateau.

They didn't have to wait long, but the wait was nevertheless quite a comfortable one; the salon was beautifully decorated, with two cosy chaise lounges and exquisite sideboards, while exotic flowers filled the room up to its high ceiling with a sweet fragrance - Jason felt right at home, and with Percy eagerly entertaining him with stories about the crusades, the time practically flew by until they were called for dinner with Gateau.

 

“I can't believe he postponed the execution for you!” Percy shook his head, trying to keep up with Jason. Maybe the Marquess had only had a good day, maybe Jason's status had impressed him or maybe hed' just been lucky, but over dinner, Jason had tried to explain that Nico couldn't be responsible for neither the Golem nor the murders. Apparently whatever he'd said had worked. “Yeah, well, I can be quite persuasive when I try.”

Percy laughed. “You threatened to clean his chambers for three months!”

“Nothing wrong with honest work.” He'd probably promised anything in the spur of that moment. Now he'd only have to worry about proving Nico's innocence in under three moons, but that could wait, _had_ to wait. Right now, all Jason wanted was to _see_ Nico. Needed to see him healthy, alive, not that broken image of his body lying in the dust Jason would see every time he closed his eyes.

“That thing must've bewitched you quite badly.” Percy had finished strapping his sword to his side and fell into step with his cousin.

“Nico isn't a thing.”

“But you admit he's bewitched you,” he answered smartly. Jason didn't get it, none of them had even seen Nico, and still they all referred to him as a _thing,_ a _creature_ of some kind – sure, it was common knowledge how those with magic were evil and dangerous, but some of them were still human for God's sake.

“Oh, shut up, Percy. Why are you even coming with me?”

“Those creatures are viscous and cunning. Someone has to take care of you, goober.”

Jason ignored his cousin, eager to get to the dungeons, to Nico. The wardens were informed, and Percy exchanged a few words with them in his position as the overlord's son. Finally, the reinforced door closed behind them leading to the cold steps downwards.

Gateau's dungeon was cold and wet and Jason didn't like that. One shouldn't treat their prisoners like that, they were humans too. Or _creatures_. Jason shook his head, trying to think of something else. He liked Percy, and he trusted him, so his words had an impact on Jason. They were definitely related, but Percy had experienced the crusades, the horrors of those wielding magic. Jason hadn't. Jason had stayed at home, getting groomed and educated and the first magic person he'd met had been a man in rags, doing tricks to entertain King Zeus's court. To Jason, magic was something cowardly, something evil, but... Nico was neither, was he?

Jason shivered and pulled his collar down a little. He felt suffocated by all this thinking. With a beating heart and sweaty hands, he opened the last door, separating him from the cells where Nico was held.

The warden sitting next to the door on a chair looked up, but luckily didn't disturb them any further. Nico was close and Jason didn't want to stop. Their footsteps echoed on the hard floor, while Percy and him looked through the bars of each cell. It wasn't until he heard a sharp intake of breath and saw his cousin rushing to one of them, that he found who they were looking for.

“You,” Percy spat, his voice full of venom.

Nico looked up from his place at the opposite wall. “Oh, hey Perseus.”

Percy grabbed the bars, willing the prisoner to stand up, to get into arm's reach.

Jason watched his friendly cousin turn almost violent in seconds. It shocked him, he had known that Percy harboured no love for ' _creatures_ ' of magic, but this was no unprovoked behaviour. Jason blinked, looking at Nico for a moment. The boy was alright, dirty bandages wrapped around his arm and head, but he seemed lucid enough. “You know each other?”

Nico watched Percy snarl at him, but stood up nevertheless, sending a smile to Jason. “Last time we met, he tried to drown me.”

“You bit off my finger!” Percy called, holding out his swordhand, its pinky still missing.

Nico shrugged, standing close to Jason just in case.

“Jason you can't be serious. We're not helping a witch!”

“I prefer 'warlock' actually.”

“Oh calm down, Percy,” Jason said leaning against the bars and crossing his arms. “What the fuck happened between you two anyway?”

Gritting his teeth, Percy stepped away from the cell, one hand firmly on the hilt of his sword. He obviously wasn't calm, not even close, but Jason trusted him to keep a level head; his cousin was a fighter, he couldn't have survived the crusades if he'd lose his head every time something horrifying or magical happened. Just as expected, Percy spat out his words, but didn't act on his instinct. “That's the monster that kept Annabeth prisoner. I've told you about her, she's my fiancée and this warlock – what do you call it? 'Nico'? Well, this _Nico_ here tried to kill us when it found us out.”

Something clicked inside Jason's head. He himself had come to the tower to rescue that girl; had he come just a bit earlier, just before Percy... would it be him? Would he have fought Nico?

“Nico is dangerous,” Percy insisted. His voiced echoed in Jason's ears, making him think again, Percy was his cousin who had experience with magic and Nico, but then so had Jason himself. Sure he hadn't fought dragons or sorcerers of anything else but that Golem face-to-face... but Nico had never hurt him. Nico made him want to turn all this prejudices around, made him want to prove the stupidity of thinking in black-and-white. Nico who had held an innocent girl prisoner for years, Nico who had fought and maimed Percy when the prince tired to safe her, Nico who Jason knew nothing about.

Nico's dark eyes were on him, piercing as if they could read his thoughts. “I am dangerous,” he confirmed unemotionally. Jason put a hand over his face, not wanting to see either of them. This was too confusing, too unexpected. He had come here to court Nico, to get him some token of his affection and then, everything had gone downhill and Jason was no longer sure he was doing the right thing. Nico was interesting, and funny and really good company and kissing him felt right... On the other hand, he was _magic_ ; he could have enchanted him, could want him harm.

Suddenly, something touched his hand and Jason looked down to see Nico thread his hand between the bars, carefully intertwining their pinkies. He didn't say anything, didn't look at him, but he didn't need to. Jason smiled, a tiny spark of _something_ travelling along his arm from where they were touching. “I'm going to get you out of here.”

 

Nico hugged his knees tighter, trying to get warm, a little bit of warmth at least, but the cold, stale air had already invaded his bones. Jason had been here not too long ago, his beacon of hope, the warm place in his heart he could turn to. A tiny smile made its way to his lips; Jason was great and Nico was sure he was getting crazy, but he trusted his prince. Maybe just this once, it was okay to sit back and rely on someone else. Maybe with Jason it was okay to let his guard down and forget all about his stepmother and her schemes just a little. Thinking of Jason really helped ousting the cold from Nico's body. He grinned, rubbing his burning cheeks against his knees, folding his hands behind his head.

“I wouldn't let your dear mother see _that_ kind of face if I were you.”

No. Nonononono, they couldn't have found him already. This was impossible, but that voice... Nico looked up, his heart beating fast and his eyes searching the dark for the speaker. “Sambul?”

Feet fell to the ground right next to him, signifying the other's presence.

Nico scrambled back, hissing under his breath. It was Sambul, his stepmother's right hand man, a tall, dark figure with long limbs, oozing vanity. “Don't do that!”

“Oh, please, don't tell me you finally found a prince and now you want to keep him for yourself?” Sambul studied his nails, ignoring the stench and dirt of the prison. Nico hated him. He rubbed his cheeks, vainly trying to get rid of the heat. “Don't be so selfish, you should share with your little sister, you know?”

Shit, he needed to get Jason out of this conversation soon. For everyone's sake. Nico swallowed hard, standing up. “If you aren't here to break me out, I'd advise you to go. Now, before I get angry.” He wouldn't have a chance against Sambul, but he couldn't let this topic drag on, not with Jason on the line. Sambul seemed to read his thoughts though, his smug gaze on Nico's shaking fists.

“You're lucky, whelp,” he replied mockingly, tousling Nico's hair. “Your mother wants her dearest son to do her a little favour. Two actually, so yes, I am here to help you out of this pathetic situation.”

Nico stepped back, shoving his hand away. “Then stop the chit-chat and let's go.”

Sambul raised an delicate eyebrow, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Don't you want to know about the favours?”

“I won't like them anyway, so what does it matter.” Nico turned around and peeked through the metal bars. The warden was still sitting on his chair, and surely he wouldn't be the last obstacle. They could use magic, but Nico was still hurt and nauseous from the Golem's attack. He'd tried to dull his headache, to somehow heal his concussion, but Nico's magic didn't work on himself. He sighed, turning back to the other. “So what's the plan?”

 

Octavian played with the little pill in his hand; it was quite a nice piece if he had the heart to be fair. He hadn't. All he could think of was the witch he had followed for months now; he'd thought he had lost that creature a while ago, but now luck seemed to be on his side, his prey coming right towards him. Octavian allowed himself a smile. Hunting for witches was not easy, not lucrative, but it was just. Of all magic beings, the witches and their offspring were the most dangerous – they were manipulative and pathetic, in some cases even beautiful but always dangerous. They weren't as powerful as sorcerers, not as obviously monsters as werewolves or sprites, so nobody expected them to be any real threat. Octavian was determined to hunt them down, and right now, he was on the trail of a certain Nico di Angelo, a witch's son, an illusive creature he'd nearly killed quite a few times, but this time, Di Angelo's death was to be permanent.


	4. Dirty Paws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason hates to learn new stuff and Nico makes terrible decisions.
> 
> Edit: Again, ElfGrove drew some really nice art for this chapter: http://elfgrove.tumblr.com/post/117494043018

 

»He broke out of prison, Jay. If that isn’t a big fat ‘drat, they got me’, I don’t know what it is. If he’s oh-so-innocent, he’d just have to wait until you’d reveal the ‘truth’ - Whatever that would’ve been.«

Jason rubbed his eyes groggily. Percy was switching between justified anger and his self-righteous I-told-you-so-lectures.

»You wanted to burn him at the stake,« Jason mumbled, resting his head on the table they were sitting at.

Percy only nodded. »Still do.«

»Without a trial.«

»Yes.«

»How does that induce any faith in your prisoners for a fair sentence?«

Any immediate retort was thwarted by someone rapping on the door outside. Standing up from his place opposite his cousin, Percy took his drink with him and snarled. »That’s so not about justice and fairness, and you know it.« He turned to the door without missing a beat. »Don’t tell me about morals. Not when you’re the one running after a witch like some dumb dog.«

Jason didn’t look up from the wooden surface he lay on when he heard the door open. Percy was just bitter, and probably rightfully so. He was the one with a whole lot more experience with magic, and apparently... Percy was also the one with more experience concerning Nico.

Sighing, the prince sat up, running his hands through his hair and remembering the scene in the dungeon. Maybe Percy was right all over, maybe Jason was being dumb, but he didn’t know everything - and that meant that he didn’t know the truth about the Golem either.

_So what is it, that makes you fight, you idiot?_ He didn’t owe Nico anything, so what made him so persistent? Why couldn’t he just accept what everyone else seemed to believe so willingly: That magic equals evil.

The chatter at the door stopped and Jason looked up to see Percy move to the side, letting in a sickly looking man. His eyes moved frantically across the room, only settling on Jason for a moment before darting around again, and as much as the prince could respect being on guard, this guy seemed a whole lot more paranoid than actual careful. Still, abiding to custom, he stood and in greeting.

»Jason,« Percy said, closing the door behind him again. »This is Octavian and he’d like to help us with the investigation. Says he’s got some intel on your friend.«

»Indeed.« Octavian’s restless eyes fixed on Jason for once, his voice almost a whisper. »I’m following this creature for quite a while now. It’d be pleasant to work alongside such fine gentlemen as you.«

»Pleasure is ours,« Jason intoned. He wasn’t sure what to think of Octavian, he obviously didn’t see Nico as human either, but if he did have relevant information, Jason wouldn’t want to scare him off. Not when all he had to go on by now was his own believe that Nico hadn’t killed anyone. He couldn’t account for his whereabouts any time of the murders, he couldn’t even say Nico’d lack motivation with how he was treated by the people of Talsworth Keep. »Please, sit.« He gestured for Octavian to take a seat at the table Jason and his cousin had occupied.

The man sat and, following suit, Percy fell in his chair again, setting his drink down and crossing his arms over his chest. »So, what you got?«

»What do you know about witches, pray tell?«

Percy shrugged. »They’re pretty easy to kill once they’re in reach.«

The smile on Octavian’s lips turned sly, reminding Jason to be careful. No matter what, he didn’t know this guy and he apparently didn’t have Nico’s good fortune on his mind. With Percy still determined to believe in Nico’s guilt, Jason was the only party in this room still seeing the good in the witch’s son.

»They are,« Octavian conceded. »But I was talking about their magic, or rather their source of magic.«

»Do you have a point or are we here in ‘stuff I couldn’t care less about 101’?«

His cousin actually had the guts to laugh at Jason’s irritated words, but otherwise remained silent. Their guest on the other hand snarled at him, obviously more than unhappy at the train of events. »I’m a witchhunter,« he clarified, sending a shiver down Jason’s spine. Of course he was. What other reason would anyone have to run after Nico for ‘quite a while now, right? Great. »As such it is my duty to be versed in the disgusting ways of magic and those who deem to practice it.«

Not backing down, Jason kept staring at the man, who’s eyes ticked while he was talking as if they’d liked to roam their surroundings again but where fixed now on Jason’s. He didn’t say anything, didn’t dare trust his words right now. He was angry and disappointed, but he still _needed_ every bit of information he could get, if he wanted to make a case for the witch’s son.

»A witch and her offspring are generally quite powerless, relying more on persuasion and intricate schemes to coax their victims into doing their whims and falling their prey.«

»Woah, wait,« Percy cut him off, leaning forward in his chair. »I’ve seen those ladies slaughter whole refugee camps! They’d opened up the earth beneath them and everything was shaking - it was a freaking massacre! How can you say they’re powerless? How high and mighty do you think you are!«

The anger and sorrow was clear in Percy’s voice, and for the fraction of a second, Jason thought he saw something like guilt in his cousins eyes, but it was gone before he could be sure.

The witchhunter seemed unperturbed by his outburst and only rolled his shoulders a little. »Ah, but that wasn’t the witches, dear Prince.«

Jason perked up, silencing his friend with a quick glance. »How can that be?« He asked, his voice calm, not betraying the strain he felt. He’d seen Nico work his magic on the tower, made it bleed _water_ , and he felt pretty sure his current health was more due to _Nico_ than his great metabolism. But in neither case, Nico had uttered even a word to him, he’d never tried to persuade him to do... well, what exactly? It wasn’t like _Jason_ could produce water or heal faster than normal... But he _could_ be made to go on a fool’s errand that would more than likely kill him. Or try to break a convict free from prison.

»Witches can’t make someone do something he or she isn’t inclined to or which is impossible for them to do anyway,« Octavian explained. »But they can make things that _could_ or _will_ happen occur faster. They can make someone grow older in a flash, can make them look for a corner in a round room even, if they get their hands on the right person.«

»So they could actually heal people?«

The witchhunter scoffed, but Jason ignored him and Percy’s incredulous glare. His cousin wanted to say something, but he was being _nice_ and Jason would owe him but this was _important._ »It is a noble thought,« Octavian rolled his eyes. »But witches aren’t able to just _heal_ someone, even if they went against their nature to use their abilities as such. But they could hypothetically speed up the normal healing process, thus ageing their patient. They wouldn’t care about setting bones right so they’d heal correctly though.«

»What about the earthquake?« Percy insisted. His balled fists betrayed his emotions still. He wasn’t going to let go of that topic any time soon. »There was no stupid whole in the ground they could make people jump into _before_. The earth just opened up beneath them.«

The air turned cold in the room. Not that it hadn’t been chilly before, but with the sun setting on the horizon and the anger filling the walls, Jason shuddered. Percy and he both wanted to strangle the witchhunter although for entirely different reasons.

»Ah, but who says they can only persuade living beings?«

Percy’s eyebrows shot up. He’d never heard of that explanation before, but he’d seen the effects more often than Jason.

»You’re saying...« he started.

»Yes, indeed. If their cell’s made from stone, they can persuade the erosion to occur faster, can make the iron bars rust and break, can make _tectonic shifts clearly perceptible_.«

Inhaling sharply, Percy locked himself off. He didn’t seem to notice the other two any more, staring blankly at the scenes in his head. Scenes he’d seen a thousand times, scenes that would visit him at night, scenes he now saw in a whole new light, and _people_ who didn’t seem _capable of anything like that at that time_.

Jason grit his teeth. He wanted to shake his cousin, wanted to tell him he’s wrong, but clearly, Octavian’s explanation made sense, and even he, with his very limited experience with magic now understood better. Whatever Nico had done, he’d only accelerated natural processes.

»Bodily fluids.« Reaching into his pocket, Octavian finally came to the point of his visit. »That’s what they use to puppeteer nature, persons, and _clay dolls_ alike. It’s in _their blood_.« He put a dark marble on the table. A small pill with blood-red veins. »Literally.«

 

The ruins seemed to tower even over the heights his own home achieved; the old giants’ forge looming abandoned and forgotten over the witch’s son just as they had the first time he’d accompanied his sister here. Cradling his hurt arm a little closer to his body, Nico breathed in the night once more, steeling himself for what he was about to do. The offering lay heavy in his satchel along with his guilt and all other thoughts of that stupid, immaculate prince he’d left behind.

»All right,« he huffed to himself, feeling still a little unsure. Calling the household spirit of this particular forge was not something he was ever going to look forward to, but these days, this puck seemed like the only living person he could openly talk to.

He set the cup on the ground, pouring the milk slowly, and finally calling the hereditary title of the legendary tinkerer.

»Rumpelstilzchen.«

It wasn’t even quiet for one ominous second, just as if the puck had been watching Nico all the time. »Right, so now you’re calling me?«

Nico sighed. This was his life now. What a blast. »Yes, I think I just did.«

Rumpelstilzchen jumped down from a crumbling wall with all the elegance a puck could have. »Nicholas Saint North,« he greeted exaggeratedly, opening his arms wide and grinning a toothy grin the contrasted starkly with his tanned, soot and dirt covered skin.

Nico sneered. »That’s _not_ my name, Leo.«

»Yeah, but it always makes you look like you found a worm in one of your apples and none of our meetings is ever a good one if I don’t get that look from you at least once.«

They sat down facing each other, a careful, deliberate distance between them. Just because they talked and sometimes helped each other did not mean they had to actually trust the other man. Leo took the cup, softly humming. »Tell me, why would I bet you’re not here out of curtsey?«

»Because I’m not. You remember the last time I called you?«

Leo’s face fell. »You’re not still after that? I told you it’s impossible, just do yourself a favour and accept it. There is no prince who’d kiss a witch out of their own free will.«

A jolt ran through Nico, Jason’s first visit to his tower still clear in his mind. The kiss they’d shared, the prince knowing him being magic and still initiating the whole thing. Leo’s eyes went wide. » _Is there?_ « His voice was high, almost inaudible, the milk in his hand forgotten. He leaned forward. »Did that scheme of yours work? Did you find one? Did you find a prince who’d kiss Hazel?«

Nico internally cursed himself for blushing, even if Leo couldn’t make the faint tinge out in the dark. The puck’d known about the tower, had known about his plan to _make_ some prince pay for that princess with a kiss, even if he hadn’t been sure it would actually work against the curse. He had been desperate at that time and he really wasn’t all that happy with... everything included in that heavy mess.

»I don’t quite know yet,« he answered, not meeting Leo’s eyes. »He does not seem to shy away from magic, but then again... you know, he could still just try to lull me into some false kind of safety, and I’m not letting him close to my sister as long as I’m not sure and she’s at her most vulnerable.«

Leo cringed, gulping down the last of his milk. »Look, I don’t like you, you don’t like me.«

»Premise accepted,« Nico nodded reluctantly, not knowing where Leo was going with that statement.

»So, from one magic folk to another, maybe you should just stop licking frogs.«

»Ohgods« Nico hissed indignantly. »That was one time.«

»One time too many.«

»Anyway, it was a toad and this has nothing to do with Jason. Or my sister.« The witch’s son crossed his arms in front of his chest, minding his bandages.

»‘Jason’, huh?« Leo grinned and leaned back on his arms. »Look, in all those years you’ve searched for this legendarily good guy, you’ve never found one who’d let one of us talk _before_ cutting us down. Now, apparently you did meet this ‘Jason’ and you _think_ there's even the tiniest bit of a chance to be the one? Heck, I’d bite his hand and not let go until Hazel’d pried me from him with her own bare hands!«

»You’re crazy,«

»No, _you’re_ crazy. Take this one-in-a-million chance, Nico!« Leo slapped the dirt beneath his hand a few times, an annoyed tick pulling on his lips. »If you don’t, I will.«

»You don’t even know-«

»-Prince Jason. Shouldn’t be that hard to find, there’s not many princes left,« Leo hissed.

The witch’s son stood, his own hackles rising. »Don’t you dare.«

»So you’ll do it?«

Nico’s balled his fists tightly. Would he take Jason to Hazel? Would he make him kiss her and release the curse? _Could_ he make Jason do it? Could _he_ live with the consequences that kiss would bring?

»I’ll do it.« He spat the words at Leo, his mind racing with all the knowledge he had of curses and princes and kisses and weddings and that goddamned tingly feeling he always got thinking of Jason. The nausea settled in his stomach the moment the words had left his mouth.

Leo watched him with a smile, his anger receding. »Then you’ll need to find a way into the chamber.«

Nico only nodded, not trusting his mouth at the moment.

»I’ll built you a skeleton key,« Leo said, his words pleasant but his eyes still suspicious. Nico couldn’t blame the puck; he couldn’t quite believe his own words either.

 


	5. The silent Comedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone knows the prince and the princess get together in the end and eat apples.
> 
> Also, there's some glorious art again:   
> http://elfgrove.tumblr.com/post/117991654153  
> http://elfgrove.tumblr.com/post/117997666653

»Don’t get too comfortable,« Sambul told him the moment Nico stepped back into the shack they’d slept in after getting out of Talsworth Keep. »Your mother called and she wants you to sart the first deed tonight.«

Nico rolled his eyes. After the meeting with Rumpelstilzchen, he had actually planned to go back, get his things and head for his tower as soon as possible, but of course, his mother had always had they most perfect timing in the most annoying way.

Throwing his satchel in the straw, he turned back to his mother’s servant. »So what does she want me to do?«

Skeletal fingers rapped a beat against the wooden wall Sambul leant against. »Looks like you actually came across something interesting with that Golem of yours.«

Nico hissed. »Not mine!« Hell, he hadn’t even really cared for that thing before Jason had put it in his stupid head to actually go and fight it. Nico’s chest burned. It wasn’t like he couldn’t persuade a Golem to move after it was brought to life, but giving something like clay life enough to be something? That was way beyond his power, and still everyone made him out to be its master. It wasn’t fair and it was stupid and dumb and really not fair. All he wanted was to take his words back, to go back to the tower were he’d sat with Jason eating apples and not ask a token of Jason. It had been childish anyway. »Damnit.« Nico sat down heavily next to his satchel.

Ignoring his annoyance, Sambul went on. »She wants you to find its master and invite him to the castle.«

Nico snorted, suddenly amused. »She wants to talk to some random sorcerer? Go figures, she and Dad didn’t ever have much in common.« He pulled his satchel close rummaging through the few possessions he’d taken along.

The village at the foot of Talsworth Keep was lively, but suspicious; although they had done a good job of cleaning up after the Golem, the vanished girls were still at the front of people’s minds. Nico wasn’t so stupid as to think no one would’ve seen him or would remember him, so he choose his cloak accordingly. To him, the thin, silver cloth glittered dimly like the moonbeams it had been weaved out of, but it persuaded the villagers to see whom they wanted to see, prejudice and expectations and all. Thus, the cloak's only weakness was when someone wanted to see him for who he was, unprejudiced and open-minded - if genuine good people were looking at him like that... it wouldn’t work. Not that there were many good people like that. Thus, it was an easy but powerful enchantment and Nico was grateful Annabeth had liked the weaving.

The weather was good enough for some villagers to sell their products on the marketplace, others worked in front of their houses and Nico was lucky his cloak was light and unsuspicious enough for him to mingle between them. Whoever had brought the Golem here would’ve had some kind of agenda, this hadn’t been a test run or anything and the making of the monster had Nico thinking his mother was right. Its master had to be an experienced sorcerer who wouldn’t just run a clayman through a village for fun, the disappearing girls they’d accused Nico of murdering were probably a whole lot closer to his goal than a ruined market day. But other than that... finding the sorcerer was a pretty hopeless endeavour. If the villagers didn’t already know of him, he wouldn’t be likely to expose himself only because the witch’s son was given credit for his actions.

Nico grabbed the strap of his satchel, his feet and nose had inevitably guided him to the one stall he’d planned to avoid altogether. He just didn’t like taking apples from strangers - you could never be sure exactly what kind of apples you got, especially if they were coloured both, red and green.

The man behind the apple crates was talking avidly to a woman who looked older than she could possibly be, her wrinkled face still smiling with mouth, eyes and skin; but what caught Nico’s attention was the knife the salesman used to cut the old woman a slice. Nico grinned. This knife seemed to always go back to cutting apples, no matter what happened to it. Like an old friend, Nico was quite fond of the tool, feeling relieved to see it in the man’s hand, doing the one job it had apparently favoured.

»Excuse me.« The witch’s son turned, his ears ringing with the familiar voice. »You wouldn’t happen to have been here while the monster attacked, were you?«

Jason. Of course it had to be Jason, right now, when Nico really had other things to do. Like finding a sorcerer for his mother or remembering to breath.

He gulped, ignoring his warming cheeks and hoped his cloak would mask his reaction. »I--« He should probably just say ‘no’ and be on his way, but than again... Jason looked wary, tired as if he hadn’t slept, his thought keeping him awake. »I,« Nico started again. Maybe he could deny and still keep talking? He really had to know why Jason looked like he did. Had to know if Jason was looking for him or if his absence affected the prince at all.

Jason smiled, the tiny scar on his lip curving and he reached behind Nico. »Just a moment.« He turned to the salesman, pointing to the knife in his hand. »Mind if I wanna buy that?«

Heart pounding in his ears, Nico didn’t dare to watch or listen to the exchange. Why would Jason care for his knife? Why would he want to have it? »Yes,« he blurted.

Jason whipped around, cocking his head. »Sorry?«

»I was there,« the witch’s son answered, not meeting the others eyes. He wouldn’t be able to spin a good tale, looking the prince in the eyes and his mouth had already done enough damage as it was. Not looking at Jason’s eyes didn’t mean he couldn’t see his face though. The strong line of his jaw, the messy smear on his unshaven cheek, the bags under his eyes and, well, ... his eyes. Surprised, glittering with hope, making Nico feel bad at once for having to lie.

»Seriously?« Jason grinned, throwing an arm around his shoulders casually and pressing an apple in his good hand. »Here, take this.«

»Uh, thanks?«

»You’re the first, you know, so thank you! You do happen to have a bit of time, do you? I’d really love to talk to you for a bit.«

Nico bit his lip before he could blurt out something stupid and nodded, cradling the apple in both his hands. He let the prince guide him to a calmer corner of the market place where Percy was waiting for his cousin but only raising an eyebrow at the stranger Nico was to them. »This kid says he was there, he’s seen it.« His heart clenched at the obvious excitement in Jason’s voice.

»You did?« Percy looked him over, arms crossed over his chest. »No offence, but you don’t look like the type to stay around once an invulnerable monster comes to town.«

Jason squeezed his shoulder once before sliding in next to his cousin. »I... was curious. There were enough soldiers running around, not looking for anyone but that thing.«

Percy scoffed, shifting his weight. »Not looking for looters you mean.«

Nico cringed but nodded, not daring to see Jason’s reaction. He was saved by Percy’s interrogation though. »Was there anyone the Golen didn’t attack?«

And that... was a very important question actually. Nico opened his mouth, his hands stilling, holding the apple lightly. Had there been someone at the scene the creature hadn’t focused on? If the sorcerer would care at all what kind of girl the Golem brought him, he would have to be either really specific with his orders - not too good an idea with inflexible beings like Golems - or, he would have to be close enough to watch.

»I actually... I don’t -- There’s a friend of mine who’d know that.«

Both princes’ eyes went wide, staring at him. What was he doing? He should’ve just said no, should’ve gone back to the forge and have Leo help him look through his memories. He couldn’t tell Jason and Percy, he couldn’t involve them in this even more than they already were.

»Look, it’s important,« Jason interrupted his thoughts, his voice pleading and his eyes... Nico hated how much he wavered every time looking at Jason’s eyes. It wasn’t fair. Jason didn’t have magic, and still... It just wasn’t fair. Not when he hoped to persuade the prince to kiss his sister.

»A friend of mine is in trouble and I really want to help him, so please, if you know something, anything, tell me.«

He closed his eyes. His stomach and chest felt twisted, but the warmth that flowed through his body was undeniably. Jason thought of him as a friend. Nico was important to him. »There’s an old forge. Ask around, everyone will know what forge I’m talking about.« He opened his eyes, fixing his prince. »I’ll meet you there. Alone. Tomorrow at dusk. Don’t be early.«

Maybe it was surprise, maybe it was the tiny spark of recognition he’d seen on Jason’s face for just a moment then, but neither prince followed him when he turned and ran.

 

»So, you, the famous witch’s son, failed completely at even staying and waiting for an answer the moment your prince got a glimpse under your literal cover.«

»This isn’t as funny as you believe.« Nico kicked at the dirt under his feet, hoping to get some into Leo’s milk.

»Yeah, I think it is.«

The puck’s forge was riddled in shadows, a stark contrast to the ancient giant’s fire that had once made the ruins glow like an inferno, that had charred the surrounding land for decades even after the inevitable exodus. The fire’s heat still surged through Leo’s bloodline, making his eyes glow like embers, his body emanating both heat and light enough for them to see. Nico had never liked that about any incarnation of the Rumpelstilzchen, magic just didn’t glow. It didn’t. Even the fact, that Leo wasn't actually discernable as the source, didn’t help. The forge’s warm light just wasn’t something the witch’s son felt comfortable in.

Leo closed his eyes, the shadows wavering in accordance. »I don’t get it. I really don’t. Over the last decades, I could count the number of your visits on one hand, and suddenly, I’m your best friend? And all it took was your sister dying?«

Anger surged through him, but he gritted his teeth, not showing Leo more tells than he already did. The puck was right. They had never been close, but that had been before. »She isn’t dead,« he hissed, turning his head away.

»Might as well be.« Leo raised the cup to his lips. He’d loved Hazel, he’d loved her nearly as much as her brother had, and maybe that made all the difference. Maybe that was why Nico felt like he could trust him, could rely on his help, even though the puck didn’t owe him any favours.

»I’ve found a prince. You’ll get me into the chamber. He breaks the curse. End of story.«

Leo fixed his gaze on the witch’s son. »And they live happily ever after?« he asked sceptically. »You do realize that this prince you’ve found, this ‘Jason’? He’s from another story entirely. He’s not meant to save this particular damsel in distress.«

»What do you know.« Nico sat down heavily, ignoring those eyes that could literally burn into his soul. Rumpelstilzchen could do that, he knew, could read your heart's desire to barter with it. Or at least, that’s how the tale was told. Nico had always believed the title just went to the most intuitive, manipulating bastard that sold you straw for gold and your first born.

»It’s the narrative imperative. It’s just how this world works. The damsel is in distress, the prince randomly gets to know her, falls in love and saves her. After that, they live happily ever after.« Leo gulped down his milk, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his dirty shirt. »Only this prince, your ‘Jason’? He’s already met his damsel, and it isn’t Hazel.«

Leo’s words hurt, hurt even more since Nico felt the puck was right. He’d tried not to think the very same thoughts for quite a while now, denying himself the story that had resulted from the moment he’d met Jason at the tower; the story that had begun when he’d let the prince kiss him and the story that was unfolding ever since he’d kissed him back in the shadows of Talsworth Keep.

Shaking his head, Nico steeled himself. »Can’t be. It has to be her.«

Leo sat his cup down, frowning. »You can’t change a story, once it has been written.«

A sardonic smile tugged at Nico’s lips. If that was what had to be done to save his sister, so be it. He crossed his legs under him, sitting straight and nodding at the forge’s household spirit. »Watch me.«

Shrugging, the puck made it clear how inconsequential he thought Nico’s determination was, yet he couldn’t quite quench the tiny spark of hope. He still was working on the tool that would be essential to Hazel’s rescue, was helping her brother to sift through his memories to find the Golem’s master, was foolishly entertaining the idea of having the small witch back with them, even though he knew bone-deep, that none of them, neither he nor Nico, were meant to be part of her story. »All right,« he conceded, giving the witch’s son another glare. »Let’s get to it. You wanna lie down for this?«

 

Memories were strange little creatures, tiny specks of colour, gurgling lights and deafening shadows. Smelling water and breathing glass, tasting stars and listening to silence. Tthe balance of falling and the untethered grounding of roots. Only later, when Nico woke from the state that only resembled sleep, he would be able to put it all together and make sense of each fragment. Like a puzzle, with each piece, the picture got more and more clear, the past now lying bare, without the feelings and priorities that had clothed it in the moment he’d experienced it the first time. He could tell the exact number of houses that had been on the street before and after the fight, could tell the kind of wood the crate he’d hid behind had been made of. He also remembered the blood he’d spilled, had given the earth intending to persuade its clayey cousin to stop its rampage.

At that moment, Jason had been his priority, his focus on the prince, but now that he’d stripped the memory, the person on the sidelines stuck out like a sore thumb. Se had been there, when the Golem had broken through Jason’s defence, had caught Nico’s eye when the witch’s son crashed into the debris. She’d watched them, Nico realised, had given them the moment they’d shared, just before Nico’s world had turned black for a few minutes. The lost time didn’t matter though, when the last memories of the scene showed Nico the other knights, the remaining villagers staring at Jason in awe, turned to them in incredulous fascination. All but one. The one that had watched the whole thing unfold, had seen Nico for the threat he’d posed and had dealt with him the very moment the witch’s son had intended to step in, to intervene and use the earth against the Golem and its master. The one person that, in the first seconds of victory turned, not to their saviour, but away, that got out of their reverie sooner than everyone else. Sooner than anyone should be able to.

There were no hard facts, just magic. Just knowledge. Nico knew the face he was looking for, knew the person’s clothes and scars and wrinkles, knew every superficial thing there was about the Golem’s master. Everything but her name.

 

Piecing together his memories, Nico stayed at the forge. Forgetting Leo and forgetting Sambul, forgetting even Jason for these hours. When he finished, he was alone and drained, his senses sore and his body hurting, but dusk would eventually come and he’d have only moments before Jason would arrive. Praying to the gods the prince had heard and listened to him when the witch’s son told him not to be early, Nico shoved his satchel under his head and breathed deliberately for a few moments. Sifting through memories took almost the same time as living through them for the first time, but it was more exhausting, even with Leo’s help. The puck had vanished hours ago, giving him both, the time and space needed.

Under his head, the satchel felt wrong; the satchel filled with cloaks, a golden ring, his spindle and reel, and the skeleton key Leo had finished for him. But the space his knife usually claimed was now used up by the wrong object, a foreign object filled with the warmth of a promise: the apple Jason had given him before Nico had asked the prince to meet him here, at the giant’s forge.

The witch’s son sat up, taking the fruit out and staring at it. It wasn’t one from his forest, hadn’t grown on his trees, but it had been given to him by his prince. That had to count for something, right?

It didn’t. Couldn’t.

Wasn’t his prince. Couldn’t be.

Nico put the apple on the ground, pulling a cloak from his satchel and wrapped the cloth around him, it’s golden shimmer breaking the sun’s remaining light, making him all but invisible to the unknowing eye. He’d wait for the prince, wait and observe. He couldn’t be sure Jason would heed his words and come alone, wouldn’t bring Perseus with him, or even the knights of Talsworth Keep that still wanted to see the witch’s son burn.

 

Jason hadn’t been sure at first, hadn’t known what to make of the feeling he’d gotten the moment he’d looked the guy in the eye. Even now he couldn’t be sure and Percy had certainly not been wrong when he’d called him a stupid idiot for going alone more than once. They had asked around earlier today, had even looked into Nico’s prison break, but all they’d come up with were the very same questions they’d asked at the beginning of their investigation. Apparently, there was no one who had seen anything out of the ordinary, no one had an explanation other than the inherent evil in anything magic. The two princes had even gone as far as speaking with the girl who had been attacked when Jason’d come to hunt the monster down, but all she could tell them had been the same story everyone else told: Some outsider wanting to hurt Talsworth Keep and the village, kidnapping girls at night.

Up until now no one had been brave and agile enough to follow the Golem or even stand up to it, and the only thing connecting the attacks was the girls’ affiliation with Talsworth Keep itself, were they were working. That particular trail had come to nothing though; none of them were magic, so they had to be innocent. Octavian agreed, having looked through the rooms the girls were sleeping in and not finding any trace of magic. He kept insisting on finding Nico though, so Jason had known to keep his mouth shut when he’s recognized those eyes that seemed to lack colour nearly as much as humanity.

It had been Nico, Jason was sure. However the witch’s son had disguised himself, it apparently hadn’t worked on Jason for long. Neither Percy nor Octavian knew who he’d seen, and even if he’d told them, they wouldn’t have wanted him to go. Or at least not alone. Meeting some stranger from the village was much easier than meeting the »creature« he’d come to call his friend.

Grasping the handle of Nico’s knife in his belt, Jason stepped out of the forest on the clearing that was riddled with the old debris of ruins. The giant’s forge, the villagers had called it, and being here, Jason could definitely see why. Even reduced to their basic structure, the ruins were huge, each wall taller than the prince and the remaining steps too vast for a normal human being.

Ever since he’d used it in the fight, Nico’s knife made a spark of warmth travel along his arm and to his heart. It was stupid, really. The knife probably wasn’t even magic, but it was something to hold on to, to remember those peaceful moments he’d shared with the witch’s son before all this. Moments that had made him trust and believe in Nico. Holding onto the tool they had used to cut apples, Jason could be sure those moments had been real, hadn’t been a dream or some kind of illusion or spell he’d been under. This knife, essentially, was proof magic wasn’t evil.

»I wasn’t sure you’d come.« Jason turned around, startled. Out of thin air, Nico appeard behind him, a pensive look on his face. »What with all the fuss and the break out and... yeah.«

Gripping the knife tighter, Jason shook his head. »Did you make sure I was alone first?«

The guilty look on his face was all Jason needed to know his answer. »Look,« Nico said, balling a golden cloth in his hands. His arm seemed a little better now; he was still moving it stiffly but not as careful anymore. »Perseus and I, we really didn’t get off on the right foot and I know what this looks like.«

»And what exactly does it look like?« It was nice being able to literally hold onto their shared past, but their future... Jason wanted to make sure Nico understood.

»I,« he stuttered. »I made you fight that Golem. I-- You don’t think I’ve set you up?«

Laughter caught in his throat. »What? Nico,« he exclaimed. »I know you didn’t. You wouldn’t do that. If you’d wanted me dead, you’d ‘ve just given me a poisoned apple or something.«

The witch’s son blinked at him stupefied and something started to melt in Jason’s chest. Nico wasn’t stupid, and they hadn’t had to lie to each other ever since they’d met. Jason was miffed about his friend running without giving him a heads-up and he sure as hell would’ve liked to know Nico trusted him enough to include him in his escape, but he still believed in their friendship.

Jason looked around for a softer patch of grass or some nice stone to sit on and smiled. Their situation was so chaotic, so untidy, just like those ruins. »Let’s clear the air,« he said, finally sitting down and patting the space beside him. Nico followed the prompt and then they sat again like on the day they’d met, side-by-side, their shoulders touching and legs brushing and sun-warmed stone against their backs. Jason breathed in the scent of the forge. He could come to like this place, become fond of this moment as he was of the moments at the tower. »I wanted to give you something nice, something that would make you believe that I mean it. I still do.«

Nico stared ahead, ears and cheeks tinted red. »Not what I thought you’d talk about.«

»It’s the only thing that matters.« Jason reached out, his fingers brushing against the feathers in Nico’s hair. »All those other things? They have nothing to do with us, do they?« He turned to face his friend fully. »It doesn’t change anything, Nico. I’ve known you were magic and I’ve known others were afraid of you for that. I’m not. And I won’t ever be.«

The witch’s son closed his eyes, exhaling softly. »You’re unbelievable.«

Jason only chuckled lightly and leant his cheek against the stones in return. The sinking sun coloured Nico in warm tones, making him look more peaceful than Jason’d ever seen him. Those abyssal eyes were relaxed and open when he leant back, turning his face to look at Jason and smile. Close like this, their breath mingled and it would’ve been so easy to just give in, to stop this conversation short and just show Nico what he meant.

Sighing, Jason kept watching his friend, kept burning this moment into his memory, storing it away with the others. He needed Nico to know bone-deep, to trust Jason and believe in his affection. This boy had been shunned by the world for being his mother’s son, was accused of something he would never be capable of no matter what Percy or Octavian or anyone else said. Nico was the boy looking down at him from his tower with a mischievous smile, the boy cutting apples absentmindedly as if it was second nature, wearing pearls and feathers in his hair and laughing at naive princes. Nico wasn't evil, he was beautiful.

»You still got that knife?«

»Of course,« Jason breathed, almost not reacting when Nico held an apple to his face.

»Cut that for me?«

While they sat beside each other, their backs to the cooling stone and eating the apple, the sun had sunken behind the horizon, the air becoming clammy and frigid fast. »I need your help,« Nico finally admitted, his voice lacking the fondness it had held moments ago. His reluctance was apparent, and Jason stopped feeling the cold around them, his core heating up. He was asking Jason. Not some magic friend or his mother, he didn’t like needing help, but he came to Jason for it.

»I have a sister. She’s cursed and you can safe her.« Before Jason could open his mouth, could give the feeling in his chest words, Nico added: »But before that, we need to find the woman who controlled the Golem.«

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, but I still hope you enjoyed this chapter <3


	6. Terror Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are finally moving against the Golem's master and magic shows its true colours. Or at least some shades.

Octavian had watched the two princes running around, asking questions, looking for a person that just didn’t matter. It was so horribly obvious and the witchhunter had hoped at least Perseus would’ve seen the illusion they were under. But no. Again, Nico di Angelo would escape justice. The witch’s son wouldn’t have to answer for his misdeeds and all because of one stupid, enchanted prince of Iulia. Didn’t they see? Were they this blind? Whoever they thought had ordered this Golem didn’t matter; the witch’s son should’ve burned many years ago already. His crimes had already been enough for more than one death sentence when Octavian’s grandfather had started hunting the creature. He couldn’t let this happen, couldn’t let this monster go free again even if that meant letting the Golem’s master go unpunished this time. Ridding the world of the scourge that was the witch’s son was more than worth a little amorality.

So he listened, memorized the plan the princes had come up with. If he’d find that woman first...

He turned the pill over in his hands. It had been meant to help, to stop the Golem if Jason’s report was anything to go by. But then again, the boy had been enchanted. Yet, still, in the right hands, this thing could _suggest_ things - and a man who'd studied magic long enough sure could use its inherent magic.

 

“Right.” Percy shifted in his seat. “Remind me what we’re doing here again?” The prince traced the edge of the sword he’d laid across his lap. Not that he was bad company or that it was a bad idea to have someone with them when confronting a sorceress likely more powerful or experienced than Nico, but Percy was just, well, he didn’t like being left in the dark. That, Jason could sympathize with, still it didn’t mean he could tell his cousin. He couldn’t really tell him he’d met with Nico - who Percy still thought of as evil and apparently had some kind of history with. Again, Jason saw where the other was coming from; having to save a damsel in distress from the witch’s son wasn’t really building trust.

Also that thing with his hand. Jason risked a glance at the tanned limb that cradled his cousin’s blade. Biting someone’s finger off didn’t really scream ‘Nico’ in his experience though.

“Honestly, I don’t see why you’re making this all seem like some big mystery. Meeting informants in the dead of night or whatever. Now the kid’s standing right there. He’s going to show us who he’s seen and we question that person. Seems pretty straightforward to me.” Percy sheathed his sword. “Anything you want to tell me? Like, I don’t know. What you really did yesterday you didn’t want me to come along to?”

Nico was wearing his cloak again, Jason knew. He himself couldn’t unsee the witch’s son, but Percy should only see the villager he expected to have witnessed the Golem’s attack. There really was no need to fear his cousin recognizing Nico, no need for the cold lump in Jason’s chest.

They couldn’t risk Percy finding out now. Finding the Golem’s master and finding proof for Nico’s innocence was too important. It might not have mattered to the witch’s son anymore - having broken out of prison already and being on the run for being magic anyway - but to Jason it was imperative. He needed this. Needed to show Percy and everyone else that Nico wasn’t bad like that.

Across the market square, Nico moved before Jason could give his cousin a reply. He followed a woman the prince thought was slightly familiar. She was small, smaller than Nico, but at least twice his size in width. Round cheeks and tender eyes made her look like a mother, a nice, cosy lady and for a frightening second, doubt crossed Jason’s mind. Could Nico be wrong about this? That woman sure didn’t look magic. Not like Nico at least, with his strange way to clothe or do his hair or his eyes that were almost completely black.

Next to him, Percy stood with a determined air. He really was a good friend, making Jason feel guilty about lying to him. The only thing Percy really knew about all of this was that they were going against someone magic, and Percy had fought enough magic folk to know exactly how dangerous that could be. Still, he went along with it.

Admittedly, he was voicing his annoyance out loud, but he also made sure Jason felt safe, secure of his cousin’s loyalty.

“All right then. The kid’s moving.” He also looked a whole lot more confident than Jason felt. “Let’s keep a distance but make sure not to lose them.”

They moved slow but steadily, losing Nico only once but keeping up with the woman. The three of them followed her to a small complex, a neat vegetable garden, a pigsty and a nice little house with cosy curtains in the windows and flower boxes beneath. It looked inconspicuous enough that Jason wouldn’t have given the place another thought hadn’t it been Nico taking them here. Nothing looked magic at all. There was a well, but the ground wasn’t really the loamy soil he expected a Golem breeding ground to be.

The princes hunkered down behind a fence just outside the woman’s land, watching from afar. She really didn’t do anything but mundane chores, feeding the doubt in Jason’s mind.

This wasn’t right. Spying on an innocent woman who did go about her life in a normal, harmless way. The thought swam inside his head, silencing his excitement and attention.

Nico still wasn’t with them. Maybe they’d read him wrong, maybe he had followed someone else and ... Jason blinked. That’s why they’d lost Nico that time!

He turned to Percy eagerly. They needed to regroup, needed to find Nico. They couldn’t have many chances like this until the real sorceress realised they were after her. He opened his mouth, but the words kept stuck in his throat. Percy’s dominant hand was the the sword handle, the other clawing the dirt beneath their feet. His jaw was set, speaking of a tension Jason hadn’t caught until now.

Slowly, he turned back to the house. Percy must’ve seen something he hadn’t. Felt something that made him this anxious and, in turn, made Jason’s skin crawl. Something wasn’t right and it wasn’t them following the wrong person.

“Let’s try to get inside.”

Percy’s eyes snapped to him. “You think she’s going to leave the house?”

Jason nodded. She had to. That’s what normal people would do. No one would sit around the house all day, she had to work, at least feed the pigs or something.

“He’s right.”

The princes turned, their hands flying to their weapons. Nico raised his hands in a appeasing gesture. He was still wearing his silvery cloak, so Percy still wouldn’t know it was the witch’s son and not their new villager friend crouching beside them in the dirt.

“I’ve asked around,” Nico said and Jason could see his eyes flicker between Percy and the house, keeping Jason in his blind spot. Trusting him. “She’s a maid at the Keep. Needs to be there in a bit. Well liked and all that fuzzy stuff.”

Percy rolled his eyes when Nico waved the last bit off and turned back to watch the house. “Don’t tell me,” he said gruffly. “She’s also a midwife.”

Nico smirked, lightly touching his shoulder to Jason’s. It could’ve been a accident, really. Meaningless. Jason chose not to think so though.

As they kept watching, Percy’s tension seemed to ease a little ever since Nico’s arrival. It wasn’t actually fun sitting in the dirt, but sitting in the dirt close to Nico was kind of making it bearable until the front door opened and the woman emerged.

“Alright, get ready.”

When the woman had turned around a bend, finally disappearing from view, they moved. Using the path through the area, pretending to just be visitors, nothing suspicious. Jason tried the door, just in case, but it was locked. “What now? Find a window?”

Percy rolled his eyes and shoved Nico towards him. “Yeah, right. Wouldn’t look like a break in at all. We have a key, remember?”

They stared. For a moment, both Jason and Nico only stared at the other prince. “Come on. I’m not dumb.” Again, Percy pushed Nico slightly. “Work your magic, just don’t think I’m not watching you.”

“How did you...” Jason trailed off as he stepped aside for the witch’s son.

“I put two and two together, what else? Your little friend here breaking out, you having a mystery date at night, bam, we got a way to find our suspect? Smells pretty much like magic to me.”

“I was actually just remembering,” Nico remarked snidely, his fingers softly touching the lock. “You know, that thing everyone can do?”

Jason kept watching his friends, struggling with relief and guilt when Percy put a hand on his shoulder. “For the record, I’m not okay with this. But whether I like it or not, I know this guy, and Golems? So not in his repertoire.”

“Gee, thanks.” Nico pushed the door open. He didn’t turn back around to them, already peeking inside.

Jason shrugged Percy’s hand off. “Can you guys stop, just for a bit?” He went to the door and pushed it open a bit further, watching over Nico’s shoulder. It looked normal enough, a hearth building the centre of the room, a table in the far corner, a few closets pushed to the walls, nothing out of the ordinary. Jason still couldn’t see what had agitated his friends but he was determined to find out.

He followed Nico inside, not risking more light than the sun already provided. They were lucky no neighbours had yet looked their way and come over.

“So, if you were a clay-man, were would you hide?” Percy kept a hand on his sword as usual, keeping close to Jason.

“Actually, the question is more along the lines of...” Jason pushed a curtain away, checking the situation outside. They’d closed the door, of course, and most people would go about their day work now, but he still felt safer making sure. Then, he leant back against the wall and addressed the witch’s son. “Would she make another? What would she need to make another?”

Nico shrugged, kneeling by the hearth. “Clay, water, two other people--”

“-- Two other people?” Percy snapped. “There are more and you didn’t tell us?”

“Calm down,” Jason said. He’d felt the same rise his cousin had, but he couldn’t help but believe in Nico. He would have told them if he’d thought it likely that there were more sorcerers.

“You can’t expect me to just be okay with this. Gods,” Percy growled. “I want to smack you so bad right now. Nobody’s seen us yet and I already want to just get out of here”

“-- Don’t jinx it,” Nico warned. His hand came up sooty from where he’d touched the hearth. “Also, we can just ask the household spirit, you know?”

“I hate magic.”

Jason shrugged. “Until now, it’s proven useful though.”

His cousin only replied by punching his fist against one of the closets. The piece of furniture rattled easily, sounding somehow wrong. All three of them turned and Percy took it upon himself to open the doors, revealing a very scarcely stored shelf and... nothing else. The prince groaned. “Oh please, don’t tell me.” He lifted the boards, putting them on the floor before pushing against the back of the closet. A soft click later, the hidden door swung open and Percy threw his arms up. “Gods, I hate secret doors.”

 

Following her had been easy. Easier than following those idiots. They all had been lucky Jason had found someone who knew this woman, who would rat her out and now the one not so lucky would be her. He’d fought those creatures all his life; following her, getting her on an isolated path and finally catching her had been nothing he couldn’t do alone. He was always alone. Better than having comrades that turned against you the moment one of them gave in to enchantment.

Octavian looked at the creature at his feet, the sorceress who’d hidden in plain view, who’d disguised itself as a normal woman. But he’d seen through it. He could see its real nature. And it was ugly.

There it lay, face bruised and swollen, coughing and begging him. They were pathetic. All of them. The moment they were to fight, they’d rather crawl and kiss your feet.

He turned his face up, disgusted. Ugly, cowardly creatures. Take their magic and it’s all they were. He kicked her hand away that attempted to grab for his leg before crouching next to the sorceress. Its eyes were dark, almost all black, red little veins breaking through them from the beating. Octavian didn’t look away when he reached back into his pocket, producing a small, red-veined pill. “You want to kill me, don’t you? I will let you do it. You can do what you want, honestly. All I want to do is suggest you another target.”

 

“Oh, this is disgusting,” Percy moaned, holding his shawl in front of his face. It did nothing to quell the stench though. “Did I mention that I hate magic?”

They had found the missing girls, or what was left of them anyway. Their remains smelled horribly and the putrid smell made their eyes water. Jason didn’t dare to move, risking to touch anything down here. The scene they had found was ugly; a small staircase that had led down into this cellar, pieces of meat hanging from the ceiling like smoked pork that already turned green.

The carcass of one of the girls was still strung up, cut open to bleed out over a tub in the far corner and jars with body parts and organs lined the shelves.

Jason gulped down the bile that had risen in his throat. ‘Disgusting’ was an euphemism actually. This was horrible, unnatural. He wanted to turn, to run back up, get a lung of fresh air and just forget about this. Forget what he’d seen, forget the smell that would still cling to him when he’d left and the sight that would haunt him when he slept.

His cousin inspected the gruesome place with a kind of professional distance and for once, Jason envied him his experience in the crusades - but only for a moment. Only until his eyes fell on Nico, the witch’s son.

The boy stood in the middle of this carnage, his fists tightly balled at his sides. He was trembling, but Jason couldn’t tell whether it was out of anger or fear or something else entirely.

“Yeah well, guess we can say we found the missing girls.”

Ignoring Percy's attempt at a joke, Jason kept watching the scene, the picture of Nico in midst of all this blood. It made sense, somehow. The boy turned, his eyes darker than ever and his voice cold like the corpses around them. “You should go.” He moved towards one of the shelves, his hands steady when he picked a jar.

“Right.” Sheathing his sword, Percy came to stand beside his cousin. “And you’re going to do what exactly?”

Nico’s reply was an unfamiliar hiss, a sudden bout of anger Jason had never seen him capable of. With his words, the room seemed to grow darker, colder. “I’m going to pay my respects. Make sure they’re getting what they deserve.”

Cold sweat ran down Jason’s spine. He’d known Nico was dangerous, but if he were completely honest to himself, he hadn’t actually _known_. Again, he envied his cousin who only had his hand at the hilt of his sword like usual, accustomed to the dark, swirling feel that suddenly filled the room. Nico wanted them out. Wanted them to move away and get out of the cellar and Jason. He couldn’t leave Nico here. Not in this room full of dirt and blood and death. Couldn’t let this cellar taint him.

“You’re no match for her and you know it.” Percy’s knuckles were white, he was fighting the urge to draw his sword, to defend himself from the horrors inhabiting these walls.

“That’s why you need to leave.”

“We will.” For a moment, Jason didn’t recognize his own voice. “If you’re coming with us, that is.”

At his side, Percy pressed out a humourless laugh. “You heard the man, witch-boy. We’re all getting out of here and - Did that thing just move?”

Nico blinked, confused for a moment before he heaved the jar in his hands up, looking straight into the dead eyes of a girl. He’d known there was a head in this jar. He’d known it was dead. And it was. it didn’t move. Dead heads in jars didn’t move, did they?

Jason huffed angrily. “Will you stop that? It’s creepy enough down here without you trying to spook us.” He shoved his cousin roughly. “Nico, put that down. Let’s just get out of here.”

The door was only a few steps away, the tiny staircase under Jason’s feet, the walls close and closing in. He pushed himself forward. There was nothing to fear down there, nothing but his stupid friends. The wooden walls pressed against his shoulders and he already felt the draft coming from the door. He’d just get out of here. Just get out and take a breath and wait for those two. They’d come after him, in fact, he already felt them at his back, cold and clammy and the door was locked. Jason stopped breathing. This couldn’t be right.

The scream sounded everything but human, metal resounding down in the cellar followed by glass breaking and the surge of something pulling him down. Back downstairs, back to the horrors and he didn’t know what had happened. What was that scream? That noise?

Panic seized him, his hands slapping against the walls to both sides, the door firmly against his back. Something was happening down there. Something was happening down there with those corpses and jars and blood. Blood and grime he could feel sipping through his fingers, the walls starting to move, the solid wood giving way like rotten bones.

Jason moved, taking two steps at once, the floor under him starting to bloat and break. He ran, his breath coming in short puffs, the disgustingly sweet smell of spoiled meat filling the staircase. He pushed himself of the mouldy walls, falling into the room and on the cold and grimy stones.

“Jason!” Nico. This was Nico, right by his side, his hair wet and clinging to his face. Breathing hard, Jason heaved himself up, using his friend as a prop. Down here, the air was wet and filled with mould and decay, the floor slippery with stinking fluid, the acid fumes stinging his eyes. The jars had broken, exploded, drenching Nico from the looks of it. “Where’s Percy?” he asked, gripping the witch's son tighter and tucking him firmly under his arm.”

“Over there. - She’s here,” the witch’s son breathed, his hand moving to squeeze the one Jason had on his shoulder. “Let me go. She’s here.” He sounded urgent, distracted and the fear was so apparent, Jason had to force himself not to grab the boy and run. Nico wriggled free, throwing his cloak over his shoulders his bare hands moving to feel for the wall behind them. “Be brave. Be safe. Go find Perseus.” His voice was soft, only a whisper but to Jason, it sounded more like the bellow his instructors had used back home than the urging sound Nico made. His legs moved, his hand steadily unsheathing his own weapon. He was going to get his cousin, carefully moving between the swinging corpses, the billowing shadows. It was dark and although the cellar wasn’t all that big, he’d already lost Nico behind him. Raising his hand, he touched the flesh in front of him. Here, he’d last seen his cousin, had seen Percy, well and alive. The dead skin slid sickly under his touch. Gave in as he pressed a little harder, penetrating the tissue and slipping wetly under his fingers. Fighting the urge to throw up, Jason shook his hand quickly, removing the rotten flesh. It fell to the ground, the sound resounding through the cellar. The corpse behind him still swinging on its hook. He didn’t dare to turn. Didn’t dare to look directly at the movements he could feel at his back. Something moved, a groaning sound like stretched tissue being released. He took another step, his body working for him, his mind racing with Nico’s words.

He walked as fast as he dared, knowing he should already have made it through the cellar twice. It hadn’t been that big before. Hadn’t been that dark before. Movement. There. Just out of arms reach. A shadow, and this had to be Percy. Forcing his jaw open, his lungs to work, he pressed his cousins name between his teeth. Calling for him. Calling for the shadow that had to be Percy.

The hairs at the back of his neck stood up. The draft cooling the sweat at his back. Jason touched another carcass, carefully lifting it out of his way. This time, the skin slipped slightly, but didn’t break. This one was more solid, not yet rotten as much as the others. There hadn’t been so many before, had there?

The draft blew over his neck again, the cold slowly seeping into his bones. There it was again, the shadow. Resolved, Jason stepped forward, quicker this time, reaching out. He was already touching the shawl, already feeling the warmth of another living body when a cold hand closed around his neck. Jason let his sword fall, screaming and clawing at the fingers pressing into his throat.

Percy turned in time to see his cousin vanish between the bodies. Experience and training kicked in; his whole being screaming at him to run, his mind forcing him to run _towards_ the danger. He shoved the cadavers aside, ignoring the fluids that soaked his clothes as he followed.

Jason grabbed for the surrounding flesh, anything, really, to hold on to, his other hand still firmly gripping the fingers that did their best to crush his trachea. He didn’t want to die. He wasn’t just going to die. He was going to be safe.

Getting a hold of something he pressed his fingers closed around it, tearing it out of the carcass when his attacker pulled him back relentlessly. He didn’t care what it was. It was solid and long and it was still in his hand. Shoving his new weapon back over his head, pushing it between the attacker and himself. He’d never practised this. He didn’t know what he was doing when he drove the weapon through resistance. The hand let go, but the scream at his back almost rendered him deaf. He was shoved away, on his knees, the wailing coming from behind him, his attacker still at his back.

Jason retched, the air filling his lungs hurting his throat with every breath. Percy dashed forward, putting himself between them, both now behind Jason. Both, Percy and his attacker. He needed to turn. Turn around. His weakened body protested with every move when he slid over the wet ground on his knees, pushing his body back to one side and heaving hard when he finally laid eyes on his attacker.

Swallowing the sour taste in his mouth he took the grotesque figure in. A girl, her skin and bones stretched and broken over another body. The woman, wearing her like a second, unfitting skin. A skin still filled with bones and blood and everything pushing outside through the tears in the tissue. The girl's dead tilted back in eternal desperation, her throat being torn open to make place for the woman’s face pushing through it.

He let his arms give up, falling back and squeezing his eyes shut. He turned to his side, bile already rising to his mouth. Throwing up didn’t change anything, he kept gagging, his eyes closed and tears at their corners. It hurt, he couldn’t see, he couldn’t move, couldn’t. His stomach churned, but he kept himself breathing. Be brave. He told himself. Percy was here. Percy wouldn’t let him die. Wouldn’t let - He didn’t want to think of that creature.

“You’re going to be okay.”

It was the truth. It was a warm hand on his back, soothing voice and it was him. Nico. Jason nodded, grabbing around for his hand. He pulled the boy closer when he’d found it, tangling their fingers together and keeping his breath under control. Nico was here. Percy was here. He was going to be okay.

Nico stroke his back, but his voice was turned away when he heard him again. Talking to Percy. “He got her. Just let me--”

Something hit the ground before Nico could finish and when Jason finally had the strength to open his eyes, it was Percy lying just out of arms reach on his back, his sword still steadily pointed, his upper body already moving off the ground. He was bleeding, his empty hand wiping across his forehead, clearing the dark stream that ran into his eyes. His voice rattled, but he didn’t move his focus. “Whatever, just do it fast.”

Jason felt Nico’s warmth leave and turned to see the witch’s son stand. He didn’t want to see the creature again, didn’t want his friends to get close to it.

“You’re dead.” Nico sounded strange, almost the same, unfamiliar tone he’d used earlier when he wanted them to leave. But at the same time, Jason felt like he shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t hear those words. They weren’t for him.

“You’re already dead and you know it. Still, it’s your desire to kill.”

Jason dragged himself up. He couldn’t let Nico face this thing alone. Every nerve in his body screamed at him, hated him for moving. But he had to. Had to see that - had to see her. The sorceress. No, the murderer. Looking at her, it was still the same old woman. Small and chubby, her eyes dark like Nico’s. She was bad, evil. But not a thing. She was despicable. But not just some creature. Calling her that, not acknowledging her mind, her consciousness or the ability to understand and differentiate between good and evil, was an excuse. That was her. She'd known what she did and chose to be evil. It was a choice. Something human.

Nico raised a hand to her face, his fingers folding themselves over the bone Jason had driven into her eye. “You want to kill us. I will grant you your desire, but I will give you another target.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asdfgh... I'm a bit... anxious about this one? Still, I do hope you enjoyed reading it!  
> It's getting pretty close to the last chapter, as the last'll probably be just a bit more than an epilouge. But we'll see.  
> Anyway, as always, do feel free to comment and/or criticize! <3


	7. Life is no fairy tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico's plan is finally set in motion and he's prepared for the sacrifce that goes along with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, since it's my birthday I thought I'd get this chapter out. I've been sitting on most of it for a while now and this story's pretty much finished anyway - Have I ever mentioned how much I'd like a beta? Anyway, have fun reading!

There was no funeral. Not for Greta, the sorceress, and Jason was glad he didn’t have to see her relatives' faces.

Faces. Like the one that had ripped through the girl’s throat. The one Nico had taken in his hands, peeling it out of the skin like a ripe fruit. Cradling it and talking to it while Percy readied his sword for the moment the sorceress’ neck would protrude.

Greta, Nico had explained, was still alive. Nothing but a biting and snapping head, but alive nonetheless. And her only, last goal was to fulfil his order. Find and kill.

Jason shuddered. He didn’t want to think of that anymore. Didn’t want to see the images that were burned into his mind. Nico, bloodied and sullied. And Percy, the human, the crusader. And Greta. No, not Greta. The sorceress; the magic being that had killed a dozen girls, that had attacked them in the cellar. That had been driven out of its mind by magic. Not her own. Not her magic, but a darker kind, if that was even possible. A kind of magic that didn’t stick to the rules, that didn’t just suggest and worked its natural way. That kind of magic had been perverted. Had been ripped out of any order whatsoever. Just an energy used to force Greta to even more horrible acts than she had already committed.

And Percy would find whoever had done this to her. He couldn’t let this stand, couldn’t let anyone go free who was ready and willing to pervert magic.

It... It wasn’t what Jason had expected. None of this was. He had been raised to fight and live at his father’s court. He had been raised to lead people and provide for them. Fighting, he had soon realized when he first set foot outside his father’s lands, had only been ingrained into him _theoretically_. Sure, he had trained a lot. The tournaments saw him at the top almost every time. And then he’d met Nico. The witch’s son who turned his world upside-down and nothing made sense anymore. There were no damsels in distress to save, no bad wizard with an evil laugh and a pointy beard. Just a big mess. People weren’t nice or good or anything, really. They were just people, no matter their abilities. And just when Jason had been ready to accept that, to accept that there really was no difference between folk with and without magic, the world changed again.

He didn’t want to think about it. Nothing came out of that. Nothing.

Sighing, Jason let himself fall back on his bed in Talsworth Keep. Percy was already on his way, following the sorceress’ head to whomever reduced Greta to this monstrosity. His cousin really was something. He had fought in the crusades, hated magic because of that, but still was able to fight alongside Nico. And they had been a great team, Jason had to admit begrudgingly. He had been useless back there, had been useless before and he was pretty sure it hadn’t even been him who defeated that Golem.

“You should stop.” Jason bolted upright. There at his window, just like the first time he’d seen him, sat Nico, an apple in his hand. “I won’t want to interrupt a good brood, but you should stop. Smiling looks better on you.”

Jason blushed just a little. That was his life now. Nico and his way of turning everything upside-down. And still, no matter how confusing and hard that was... he didn’t mind. Not really. Not when that meant understanding Nico, getting to know the witch’s son, becoming part of _his_ world. Jason smiled.

“That’s better.” Slipping down from the sill, Nico looked around the room Gateau had given Jason for his stay. It still looked the same. Same as when Jason had woken here first, after the Golem attack. His first time meeting Greta. “So, um,” Nico looked at him sheepishly. “I don’t really know what to say.”

Neither did he. But that was okay. Jason’s smile became true, the boy he had seen in that tower was still there. That was still Nico, nothing had changed, Jason just understood now. “Come here,” he said, reaching with one arm.

The witch’s son sat on the bed next to him, reluctantly watching him. Nico didn’t move when Jason’s hand touched his cheek, slowly tracing the shape of his face. His hair was still a mess, but at least, he’d cleaned up all that blood. Jason’s thumb swiped over his cheekbone, where he remembered the red splatter. Wiping it away. Away from his memory. This was Nico. This was better.

He cradled Nico’s neck and pulled him down, made him lie on his chest. And breathe.

 

It was strange how easily Jason went along with the plan. He had been exposed to more magic over the last few days than he had seen all his life, and he still followed Nico to the small shack in the woods with that much... trust. And that. That was _something_.

Sambul was waiting for them, leaning against the door with his arms crossed and a look of disgust on his long face. For now, Nico could only hope Jason had listened, had understood magic enough to fake being a sorcerer.

“So we finally meet. How do they call you?”

Jason stepped forward to shake Sambul’s hand, and really? Handshakes? Great start. Nico sighed and pulled on one of the feathers in his hair. His arm was healing nicely, but it still hurt some times when he moved it too fast.

“The name is Hans,” Jason answered. His voice was steady, practised in his father’s court and for once, Nico was glad his mother’s servant was prejudiced against anyone.

Sambul snarled, never moving to take Jason’s hand. “My lady wants to see you. Are you prepared to leave?”

“I--” Jason glanced towards Nico, who, in turn, refused to give in to the urge to slap his forehead. “I think. I. Yes. I’m prepared, of course.” The prince gathered his wits. “Of course I am. I am here, aren’t I?” He stuck out his chin, giving Sambul a defiant look.

“That you are.” The man reached into his coat, pulling out a small vial. “And of course, you know how to get to her doors.”

Nico regarded the vial. The colourless liquid would be water. Water infused with hemlock in a specific ratio. As far as his mother’s place went, this was the only way to get to the front doors and only there. Not further. The witch’s son didn’t need to glance at Jason to know that he was nervous. Hemlock was poisonous to humans and most other beings, and its side effects less than desirable. And Jason was right to be nervous, if Sambul didn’t buy it, if they gave even the slightest hint to their ruse, he could just as well give them the wrong vial.

Jason bravely nodded, keeping Sambul in his sight. They had talked about this and Nico had warned him; and yes, when Jason had accepted that risk and only asked the witch’s son to go on with his explanation, something inside Nico had swelled. Something warm and fuzzy, something that tugged at the corners of his mouth most insistently. That trust. That ... _devotion_? It just felt nice and for now, Nico let himself feel it, let himself revel in it, knowing he couldn’t hold on to it anyway.

Their act seemed to convince the servant and Sambul took the first sip before handing the vial over to Jason. The prince turned to him when he put it to his lips, his hands steady and his eyes fixed on Nico’s. It wouldn’t taste like much, Nico knew. He had done this trip himself often, had had his own vials not too long ago. The weakness that overcame him after his own portion was familiar and he didn’t fight it; didn’t fight the nausea nor the tremors, he just kept his eyes on Jason, the feeling of their hands brushing against each other in his mind.

 

The room Nico woke up in smelt of sunflowers. His sister had loved sunflowers and ever since she had replaced the former conductor, Persephone had made them grown in his room. On days like this, the witch’s son was certain she had done it out of malice. To remind him of his sister. The one he couldn’t safe.

The bedsheets crinkled under him when he sat up. Even with the drapes closed around his four-poster, he could see the figure waiting for him.

“Please don’t insult me by pretending to sleep,” Sambul said.

Nico pulled the curtain back, glaring at the servant. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“And neither should you,” Sambul agreed. He was watching Nico carefully, not moving an inch from where he stood, leaning against the bulky closet Nico kept his clothes in.

He needed to get up. Find Jason. Nico swung his legs out of bed, but the moment his bare feet touched the ground, vines erupted from below, tying him down. He cursed loudly; he’d let Sambul take him by surprise. The palace was saturated with magic, plants growing along each and every wall. In this place, constricting Nico’s movements was easy enough for someone like his mother’s servant.

“The last time you came home,” Sambul said, sidling closer. “You were trying to take the princess by force. You and that wolf-girl. Red cape, strange voice and an unfortunate lust for battle. What was her name again?” He laughed. Of course he laughed. Nico had tried this so often it seemed stupid to try again. But this time, he played it smart, was prepared for the sacrifices he’d have to make. He wasn’t afraid anymore.

“I’m here by invitation. I’m here to bring the sorcerer to Mother.”

The servant shrugged. “Maybe. But you wouldn’t be your mother’s son if you didn’t try.”

Tugging at the vines experimentally, Nico only shook his head. They could think of him however they wanted, he didn’t care to play along. Not now. Not when he was this close. “Let me go,” he snapped. “I gotta take that man to Mother.”

The ice in Sambul’s voice made him shiver. “Oh, no, you don’t. The plants will take care of that. For now, and for the duration of your stay, I will have my eye on you.”

“No.” Nico tore at the vines, trying to lift his feet off the ground. “Go away. I don’t like you. I want you gone!”

Sambul crossed his arms. Even with the aid of the palace’s magic, the strain of keeping Nico tied down became visible. He gritted his teeth, his knuckles turning white. “You will not see the princess! You will not doom us all with that childish tantrum of yours!”

Nico stood up suddenly, the vines around his feet screaming in agony. “I’m not a child! I know what I’m doing!”

Sambul was sweating now, the room turning cold and the walls disappearing behind a veil of darkness. “Without the princess as conductor, we’ll lose our connection to the source! We are beings of magic, you stupid whelp!”

“So what,” Nico spat back, bending to tear at the vines with his hands. “One life for thousands of others? For the greater good? Don’t make me laugh.”

The servant wiped his forehead; he was twitching, eager to look around, to watch out for whatever was lurking in the darkness around them. “It’s her duty! Just like it has been for your other sister and for the woman that gave birth to you. Don’t dishonour them by taking from us what they died for!”

One last tug and Nico was finally free. He stumbled the first steps before outright lunging himself at Sambul. They fell to the floor, grappling and rolling. The servant opened his mouth for an incantation, but Nico dug his elbow in his face, turning Sambul’s words into a distressed gurgle. His nose broken, Nico didn’t stop, he ignored the blood and gritted his teeth, driving his fist into the servant’s face once, twice. He wouldn’t stop now, not when he was this close. Not when he had been given a chance like this.

 

Nico was running. He couldn’t tell how long he had been running now. After leaving his room, he had turned to find Jason. He needed the prince, wanted to see his face even if it would be the last time. It was Jason who had given him the strength needed. The strength and trust for this one little sacrifice. And then, they would be happy, even if Jason wouldn’t forgive him. The prince was going to be happy, he would see to that. Nico sobbed, not stopping to run.

The corridor was mostly dark, only the greenish tint of moss lightening his path. A small patch of glowing moss that grew where he stepped, each dimming and vanishing soon enough.

Nico’s heart pounded against his chest in a rhythm that had little to do with running, though. He had fallen for his prince. He had known, and Leo had known and now it was too late but at the same time, they were just right. Jason was here and Nico loved him for that. This stupid prince of his. This great, trusting man who had given someone like the witch’s son a chance. Believed in him.

And he loved Nico too. He would do this. He would trust Nico only to be deceived.

He closed his eyes tightly, shaking his head and running faster. It hurt, but in the end, Jason would be happy. That’s the ending princes got. A happily ever after.

When he opened his eyes, the door was there, held close by blooming roses. The thorns cut into Nico’s skin, but he didn’t care, he tore them off, removing the obstacle between him and Jason.

Nico closed the door behind him. His prince was laying in a bed not unlike his own. The drapes had been bound back to reveal the sleeping man. His chest rose slowly, evenly and the guilt inside Nico was replaced by warmth. Jason was okay. Sambul hadn’t hurt him.

Just like that morning, Nico climbed on the bed, laying down next to Jason for a bit. His heartbeat slowed and just for a second, he relaxed before his mind caught up with him. He’d had his last night with Jason; now he would keep to the plan. Safe Hazel.

Nico sat up, reaching for Jason’s face with one hand. He stopped himself, shaking his shoulder instead. “Wake up, Prince Charming. Change of plans.” The witch’s son cringed. “I kinda got us busted.”

“Crap.” Jason shook himself, alerted by the tone in Nico’s voice.

“Pretty much.” Nico stood, taking Jason’s hand with him. “Come on, We don’t have much time until Mother will know.”

The prince trailed behind, not asking for clarification. He was prepared for whatever, as long as Nico asked him to, and Nico hated himself for that.

Jason’s hand in his, he went to the door, carefully touching his finger to the knob. It was warm, but not yet hot. Still, the Guardian’s fire already warmed the corridor; the lindworm was awake.

Nico pushed the door open, ignoring the wall of heat he stepped into and immediately turned to the source. The corridor was no longer lit by the greenish glow of moss, rather than the orange light of the inferno blazing at one end.

Not letting go of Jason, Nico started running towards it. This would be his last test. The one obstacle he would need to remove before Hazel could be freed.

Leo had prepared him, had given him the one key that opened every door - even the non-existent one in the Guardian’s wall of fire. He had used the breath of fish and the tears of sand, the feet of snakes and the love of a murderer. Ingredients only a puck could procure, and only a master smith forge.

The wall of fire made it hard to breathe. Every time, they inhaled the burning air, singed their hair and skin. Nico didn’t stop running, pulling his prince after him. And Jason trusted his friend.

The key in his satchel began to work, the flames that were already licking at their clothes never ignited even the driest strand. Nico took the skeleton key in his hand, the metal so cold it burned his skin the moment he moved it close to the wall. The coldness hurt, but not as much as the firewall would, so Nico kept it in front of them. He turned to look at Jason, nodding at him and hoping his prince would understand. He couldn’t let go now, he had to stay as close behind Nico as possible and they couldn’t stop. Not even for a moment were they allowed to stop.

Another step and they entered the inferno.

The flames roared around them, angrily grabbing for their clothes, while the skeleton key opened the way for them. The air shimmered before their eyes, the heat sending droplets of sweat down their faces, but they didn’t stop.

Nico felt Jason’s fingers tighten, readjusting their grip. Squeezing his eyes shut, Nico made the last steps preparing himself for what was to come. Then the flames around them vanished suddenly, making room for shrubs. Green leaves and white roses and thorns all around them.

Finally, they could stop running, having reached the chamber they had been looking for. The chamber where Hazel was held. The one protected by its Guardian.

Nico looked around the sea of brushes. Scrubs and roses and thorns as far as the eye could see. Scrubs and roses and thorns from here to the purple horizon. Nothing but the clearing they stood in, and the tall tree Nico knew was behind them.

He turned slowly, deliberately not looking at Jason rather than the giant ash tree. Hazel was up there; rooted to the source, pulling magic into their world and giving them their powers by giving her life.

If the Guardian hadn’t shown up yet, they would only have moments until it did. Nico took his last cloak from his satchel, a piece of cloth made from the light of stars.

“This is going to give you the ability to fly,” he said, thrusting the garment at Jason. The prince was looking at him apprehensively, taking the cloak but also taking Nico’s hands in his.

“So this is it? This is where you need me?”

Nico nodded. He had told Jason about the wall of fire, had told him not to be afraid and not to stop, to do as he did and afterwards, he’d only need to help him fight the Guardian. And then. The last thing he would ask of Jason. A kiss. Nico had blushed then, and Jason had just laughed and he had been so beautiful then, so full of happiness and life and Nico had never planned to fall in love with a prince. He was a firm believer in stories and neither the witch nor her son ever got a happy end. Falling in love with the prince he needed to safe his sister, to safe the princess... It was stupid. So stupidly stupid and masochistic and Nico couldn’t help himself from tearing his hands from Jason’s.

“The Guardian is here.”

Steeling himself, he watched Jason put the cloak on from the corner of his eyes, his focus on the lindworm slithering down the giant trunk. It was a grand beast; Hazel’s last defence.

Jason jumped into the fight like he had been trained for it. For this exact moment. He drew his sword to attack, sidestepping the gaping maw of the beast when it darted at him, faster. He jumped, for a moment disoriented as the cloak turned his leap into flight. A moment enough for the Guardian to swipe its claws at him, knocking the prince out of the air. Jason landed with a sickening sound.

Nico raised his arms and his voice, fixing his gaze one the lindworm. “Remember the last time you fought. Remember what you fought for.”

Jason was back in the air, diving under the beast’s teeth and putting his all into the next swing. The blade slashed across the claws holding onto the ash, the lindworm screaming and biting at the prince. Swapping at him with its head like one would a pesky fly. He attacked the claw again and bellowed a laugh when the beast let go, falling down to the earth and crumbling at the tree’s foot like a discarded rope.

The lindworm roared, its teeth snapping upwards as Jason dove down. Its tail now uncoiled, whipped at him, missing him by a hair’s breadth and disrupting his flight. Jason turned around mid-air, tumbling down and landing heavily on the beast. It screeched, while Jason raised his sword. In the next moment, it would close its jaws around him, would swallow him.

Nico screamed, his fists clenched tightly, running towards them. “Remember who you fight for, Frank!”

And the lindworm stopped. Its eyes found Nico, focused on him as the witch’s son climbed over its limbs.

Seeing his chance, Jason moved, ready to drive his sword into the Guardian’s throat. “Stop,” Nico called, putting one hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Don’t kill him. Turn around,” the witch’s son asked, out of breath and grinning excitedly. “He’s a shapeshifter. They don’t like being seen between forms.” And with that, Nico himself turned and jumped down from the lindworm’s body, only hoping his prince would do the same.

He heard the voice when his feet had found the ground again. When Jason had jumped down after him without another word, trusting him completely. “Nico, what’s going on here?”

Sighing, he closed his eyes. He had known this voice for decades and he was glad to finally be able to hear it again. “You’ve been trapped in this form for almost sixty years, Frank.”

“Sixty years.”

Jason stopped himself and looked between the two. Nico didn’t blame him. They had just fought Frank - the lindworm that let no one close to the giant ash. The Guardian.

When Nico finally faced the tree again, he just shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. We’re almost done.” A giddy feeling started in his stomach. Hazel. Hazel would be free again and it was only a matter of seconds. Only one last time he would use magic. One last time, the last time magic was ever used again, but Hazel would live. She would be free and that was all that mattered.

The witch’s son ignored his friends, stepped towards the giant ash and touched its bark.

“She wouldn’t want this,” Frank said, but the moment he tried to get close to Nico, Jason stepped in, his sword still gleaming and the cloak swishing around his shoulders.

The tree towered over them, the strange light glittering through its leaves and Nico knew the warm feeling to be his sister. Hazel. The girl that had cared for him, had been there even when he had thought he had lost everyone. Bianca, his mother. Hazel was the only person that mattered. She deserved to be happy.

“I know what you want,” Nico murmured, stroking the tree slowly. “You want to grow, and so do I. We want the same thing, so do me a favour and grow towards me. Show me your beloved fruit, the one you feed through your roots and lift to the sky. Show me my sister.”

The bark moved under his ministrations, creaking and rustling from up above him. Branches grew, bending downwards and bringing with them a small girl. A girl with dark skin and golden locks, chubby cheeks and plumb lips, and the fiercest look Nico had ever seen. Hazel still looked the same. Still looked like she had the moment she had stepped in for Bianca, her resolution firm, unwavering. Nico had adored and hated her at the same time then.

“You have to kiss her,” he whispered.

“Nico, are you sure?”

“Please, Jason,” he said. “You wanted to give me a token, didn’t you?” And, oh, Nico knew this wasn’t right. Wasn’t fair of him; not to ask this, not to deceive Jason like this, but this was Hazel. The prince would be happy and so would Hazel - this was how it worked. How the story demanded. They would both be alive and happy and for once, the people he loved would not suffer from something they didn’t deserve.

He didn’t stay to watch when Jason nodded. Not when he stepped closer in sacred reverie, his eyes on the sleeping beauty.

The prince had come and saved his damsel in distress. He kissed her and now they would magically fall in love. They would marry and live together happily ever after.

But this wasn’t his story anymore; it was their's. He had changed it. Had rewritten it.

Nico was going to be sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Feel free to comment and/or criticize, or drop me a line on [tumblr](redraidinghood.tumblr.com) if you have time <3


	8. Cinderella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason returns to the tower.

The last time, Jason had seen the tower had been the day he decided to get serious. To prove not just to Nico, but to himself, and in the end, even to his father, that he loved the witch’s son. They had shared apples at the tower’s feet, had talked and laughed and kissed. Jason didn’t recognize this tower, though. He couldn’t see the place that had been filled with so much warmth when he looked up the gritty stones. Before their journey to the witch’s realm, before Sambul and Hazel and everyone, Nico had come down from this tower for Jason. Unfailingly, never missing a step or losing his grip on the masonry.

Swallowing against his dry throat, Jason closed his eyes. He had never made it all the way up there, had never seen how Nico lived, but he needed to get there, needed to see his witchboy again and had no further clue than the tower.

The stone felt rough even against his calloused hands and not for the first time, Jason wondered how Nico had climbed it with such agility. Gripping an edge on shoulder-level, he felt around for a foot-hold. The whole idea was preposterous, climbing a witch’s tower, but he really needed to find Nico. To get him back.

The witch’s son had disappeared suddenly, had left Jason alone with his sister and the shapeshifter. Then, Jason had been angry, but Hazel had convinced him to sit down and tell them what had happened. And Jason had told them about Annabeth and her tower, about the apples he and Nico had shared even before Jason had wanted to share his heart completely. He had told them about the time they sat at the tower when Jason had realized this was it. This was what he wanted and who he wanted to share it with. He would have done everything for his witchboy in that moment - and had then tried to prove. This moment had been the beginning of the end.

No matter how rough and uninviting the tower felt under his hands, it didn't push him away, didn't hurt him. Deep in his bones, the prince knew what that meant, his heart leaping in his throat; waking Hazel meant the world’s magic was limited and faded with every use. This tower had always borne more than just Nico’s home, it had been Nico’s magic, Nico's self. Just like the forest and the fruit around it. If this place didn’t reject Jason, there might still be hope.

Surprised to have made it to the top without faltering once, Jason set his feet on the wooden floor and looked around the round room. For all the time he now knew Nico, he had never been up here. Had never seen the soft bed to one side of the window, the little storage area behind green curtains on the other. There were more trinkets hanging from the ceiling than Jason had seen in any place before and the only clear surface was that of a wooden trunk at the feet of the bed. It was a nice sight, cosy, not sterile, but clean in its own, cluttered way. Just like the witch's son. He wasn’t surprised by the loom Nico sat at, either. The boy looked pale, though, paler than normal and his arms moved only sluggishly over the machine.

“Nico?” Jason cleared his throat, trying again. “Nico, it’s me.”

When he finally looked at him, Jason’s stomach twisted painfully. Nico’s eyes were devoid of white, as dark as they had always been, but they lacked the light inside them, the light Jason had come to love.

Nico’s hands stilled. “I don’t want to see you.”

“You look like you’re dying.”

A small smile grew on his face; the same smile he had worn to make fun of Jason when they had first met. “I knew that could happen when I started this.”

Jason dived forward, crossing the distance between them and sinking to his knees in front of his friend. Hazel had explained it to him in the hours they had spent in the witch’s palace. Nico was fading, because he, like all their people, was losing his magic. As his identity was nothing but the witch’s son, magic was his essence, his very being. He was the witch's son first, Nico second. Jason hadn’t accepted it then, and he would never. No. Nico wasn’t just the witch’s son, wasn’t just some magic being. He was Nico, his friend and the most determined person Jason had ever met. Nico was headstrong and cynical, he was strong and resourceful. He was the person Jason wanted to take home.

With a soft sigh, Nico looked down at his hands. “I loved you.”

Jason’s heart skipped a beat, accompanied by the pain at his friend’s words. “Loved?”

“I can’t anymore,” he replied. The tone of his voice was steady and clear like he wanted to reassure Jason. Or himself. “ I have to forget.”

Reaching out carefully, Jason laid a hand on his and shook his head. “They want you at their wedding. Hazel and Frank.”

When Nico turned to look at him, his dark eyes wide and confused, Jason shrugged. His heart was beating rapidly against his sternum, a sweet pain he used to keep going. This was his chance, his one chance to get Nico to finally understand. “Your sister will marry him.”

“But - But true love’s kiss?”

Blushing, Jason rubbed his neck, a crooked grin on his face. He took the moment to stretch his legs and look around the room once more, noting all those little details that told him of their owner. Not of the witch's son, but of Nico. “I did kiss her out of love, you know. True love, sure, but not for her.”

Nico’s lips formed an ‘o’ that never made it out of his lungs. Soundlessly, he stood, taking a step closer to the prince. “You kissed her for...”

“For you, yeah,” Jason bit his lip, forcing his body to stay when Nico laid his hands on his arms, holding him like he was afraid the prince would vanish if he didn’t.

“That’s messed up,” he said, his voice teasing like Jason had heard the first time they met. “The kiss woke her because it was given out of true love, and now the prince and the princess don’t even marry.”

“To be fair,” Jason smiled. “There is going to be a marriage or two.”

Brushing his hands up and down Jason’s arms, Nico hummed. “Why should I believe this?”

This time, Jason made sure the boy looked at him, looked him in the eye and saw every emotion Jason felt. “Because you have no reason not to trust me,” he explained, and the look on Nico’s face was even more incredulous than it had been before.

Still, he stepped forward, getting even closer, his eyes never leaving Jason’s. “You’re a strange man, Jason Grace,” he muttered, while his hands slipped down Jason’s arms, finally finding his hands and gripping them tightly. He looked up and moved slowly, giving Jason every chance in the world to back out until Nico's words brushed against his lips. “But if there’s going to be a marriage,” Nico said. “I accept.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, damn, this took a while to finish. I'm a little sorry, but life goes on, right?  
> Anyway, I DID promise I to finish this, so thank you all for staying with me <3
> 
> In fact, I had other plans for this story when I first started it. Okay, it did start with a simple prompt, but the one-shot that is now the first chapter evolved into this long journey. There were always meant to be some loose ends, though, so I could write side stories like a prequel in the form of Frank and Hazel's past, or a small adventure with Reyna, werewolves, and Red Riding Hood. Also, there once was a wedding between Jason and a fay planned. And more mystery, not this pretty straight-forward solution.
> 
> Thank you all for your encouragement and comments, [elfgrove](http://http://elfgrove.tumblr.com) for their lovely pictures, and most of all thank you for reading <3


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